On the beat
by KazeRogue
Summary: A new thief's in town. Can Lt. Alexandra Thorne, a mutant NYPD Detective with a distinctive white streak, do what many have tried before and arrest him? Or will she forget her duties when faced with certain Cajun charms? (co-written with Cat Smith)
1. On the beat part 1

  
  
All characters are Marvel's, and being used without permission.   
  
  
  
  
  
On the Beat   
  
  
  
Part 1   
  
  
  
Cat Smith   
  
  
  
  
  
Alexandra Thorne, NYPD, read the shiny gold badge. Henry Gabblier stared at it   
  
  
  
suspiciously. He wasn't sure it was real. Who knew these day's with all those crazy   
  
  
  
assholes running about. Henry gazed at her. A looker, though. Shoulder length brown   
  
  
  
hair with a white streak running through it, and bright emerald eyes. Henry's eyes   
  
  
  
narrowed. What would a looker like this be doing on the force? Nah, she was probably   
  
  
  
a gangster or something. He was about to shut the door on her, when she stuck her   
  
  
  
foot in it.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Suh! Ah need ta ask ya a few questions. It was you who phoned the police about a   
  
  
  
disturbance, raht?"   
  
  
  
  
  
Grudgingly, Henry opened the door for her. Detective Thorne stepped into the dark   
  
  
  
apartment, and winced. The place was a tip. The walls were covered by newspaper   
  
  
  
reports about conspiracy, Elvis sightings, and aliens. Your average nutter. She turned,   
  
  
  
hands on hips, to look at Henry.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Mistuh Gabblier, raht?"   
  
  
  
  
  
He nodded, eyes darting about shiftily. "Yeah. Yeah, that was me. It's..."   
  
  
  
  
  
A loud, godawful stream of what Alexandra guessed to be cello music came pounding   
  
  
  
through the wall. Muttering to himself, Henry got up and started to bang on the wall   
  
  
  
noisily.   
  
  
  
  
  
"IT'S TEN AT NIGHT! SHUT THAT CRAP UP! KEEPING EVERYONE AWAKE   
  
  
  
YOU CRAZY..."   
  
  
  
  
  
Alexandra cleared her throat loudly. "Maybe ya wanna be quiet, suh?"   
  
  
  
  
  
Henry didn't even bother to turn around, he just continued to yell, in an earsplitting   
  
  
  
way. "SHUT UP?! SHUT UP?! I AIN'T GONNA SHUT UP TILL THAT FREAK'S   
  
  
  
PUT OUT OF HIS MISERY! YOU HEAR ME?!" He then started to bang on the   
  
  
  
wall, which, along with his fury, prompted cries from the other residents of the   
  
  
  
building.   
  
  
  
  
  
Oh, for the love a...   
  
  
  
  
  
"MISTAH GABBLIER! KAHNDLY SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"   
  
  
  
  
  
Astonished at her outburst, Henry turned to stare at her, ignoring the additional furious   
  
  
  
shouting of the inhabitants.   
  
  
  
  
  
"There's no need to shout." He cocked his head to the side, listening. "See, you've   
  
  
  
woken everyone up, now."   
  
  
  
  
  
Alexandra stared at him, her anger boiling just beneath the surface.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Ah'll apologise later. Ah'll inform the musician that loud noises aftah 9pm are   
  
  
  
prohibited in residential areas. How's that sound?"   
  
  
  
  
  
Henry made a motion, more a twitch than a shrug. "Yeah... yes, I guess it'll have to...   
  
  
  
SHUT THAT FRIGGIN' THING UP OR I'LL RAM IT DOWN YOUR FREAKIN'   
  
  
  
THOAT!!!"   
  
  
  
  
  
Alexandra backed off, heading for the door, completely freaked out by the hysterical   
  
  
  
man in front of her. "Um, what door number, suh?"   
  
  
  
  
  
"17!!!! THAT'S WHERE THIS MISCREANT LIVES. YOU HEAR THAT! I'VE   
  
  
  
GOT THE COPS! YOU'RE GOIN' DOWN YOU LITTLE..."   
  
  
  
  
  
As Alexandra shut the door, the cries, thankfully were drowned out a little. She shook   
  
  
  
her head in amazement. She had come to New York for excitement, supposedly, and   
  
  
  
what did she get? Freaky little men and cello players. Strolling down the stairs, she   
  
  
  
went to do the exciting job of, in a polite way, telling the musician to shut up.   
  
  
  
_____________________________________________________________________   
  
  
  
The new Police HQ of New York City looked very impressive. 90 floors, all the   
  
  
  
windows mirrored, glass elevators, the latest technology, it was like something off   
  
  
  
Blade Runner.   
  
  
  
  
  
Although, mused Alexandra, These days, things ain't all that much diff'rent than th'   
  
  
  
movies.   
  
  
  
  
  
On the bottom floor, she stepped into one of the massive glass elevators, smiling at the   
  
  
  
people she knew.   
  
  
  
  
  
It's amazin'. When Ah was a li'l gal, we dint have none o' this stuff. An now... She   
  
  
  
watched in amazement, as she always did, as the world dropped away from her, and in   
  
  
  
less than 10 seconds they were on the 40th floor, where most of the riders got off.   
  
  
  
Shuddering at the loneliness the elevator brought on, she spoke to the bell-boy.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Don't ya think it's so crazy? All this stuff, that's only poss'ble cause of mutants, lahk   
  
  
  
Luitenant Forge, but 10 years ago, everyone was jus' crazy 'bout us, wanted ta   
  
  
  
exterminate us, or somethin'?"   
  
  
  
  
  
The bellboy only smiled brightly. He was used to the garbling way many people spoke   
  
  
  
to him. "Got that off your chest, Detective?"   
  
  
  
  
  
Alexandra blushed, embarrassed. "Oh, yeah. Thanks, sugah."   
  
  
  
  
  
The bellboy winked at her as the elevator reached the top floor, Alexandra's stop. As   
  
  
  
she started to leave, the bellboy called after her;   
  
  
  
  
  
"Remember, ya ever need a sounding board, I'm here! Ask for Bobby Drake!" He   
  
  
  
grinned. He sure wouldn't mind seeing her again, even if she did babble. A beautiful   
  
  
  
black woman with long white hair was lead, handcuffed by a cop, and suddenly, all   
  
  
  
thoughts of Alexandra were stricken from his rather empty head.   
  
  
  
_____________________________________________________________________   
  
  
  
Cody Robbins looked over at his girlfriend. He smiled when he saw her, but she didn't   
  
  
  
smile back. When that happened, he knew she was engrossed in her own thoughts.   
  
  
  
After a quick check around for any superiors, he got up from his own station at the   
  
  
  
phones, and walked over to her.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Xandy!"   
  
  
  
  
  
She jumped, and gazed at him, dazily. "Oh. It's you." Stretching, Xandra leaned back   
  
  
  
in her chair. "What's up, Cody?"   
  
  
  
  
  
He frowned. There it was again. That cold, uninterested tone she'd been using with   
  
  
  
him for the past few weeks whenever she spoke to him.   
  
  
  
  
  
She must be really stressed. Yeah, that's it.   
  
  
  
  
  
"I was just wonderin' how ya were, sugah. Ya din't come home last night, honey. I   
  
  
  
was worried."   
  
  
  
  
  
She shrugged, nervously, avoiding his eyes. "Um, ya know, Ah've been busy."   
  
  
  
  
  
He stared at her incredulously. "Too busy to come home!?"   
  
  
  
  
  
"Well, Ah was going ta 'phone ya, but excuse me if Ah was too busy!"   
  
  
  
  
  
He blinked. "Ah... Ah din't mean it like that! Ah..."   
  
  
  
  
  
Xandra's head snapped up, and she pushed him away. "Scat, Cody! Th' boss-man!"   
  
  
  
  
  
Although confused about his Xandy's coldness to him, he scurried back to work.   
  
  
  
  
  
Xandra smiled politely at Lieutenant Forge. He was her superior, and though they got   
  
  
  
on well together, he never let her forget who was the senior officer.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Enjoy your last case, Deputy?"   
  
  
  
  
  
"Oh, yeah, barrel a laughs, suh."   
  
  
  
  
  
Forge smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. "I knew you'd like it. Henry is a regular of   
  
  
  
ours." He sobered. "I have good news, though, unless you're allergic to hard work."   
  
  
  
  
  
Xandra mock-glared at Forge. He knew very well she adored hard work. It took her   
  
  
  
mind off things she was worried about - like her failing relationship with Cody.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Okay, okay. I guess you've heard about the current spate of art and jewel thefts in the   
  
  
  
city?"   
  
  
  
  
  
"Sure. Three Master paintings, an' $5 million of jewels stolen from various museums.   
  
  
  
Same thief suspected for all o 'em. No one knows who 'e is, but still..."   
  
  
  
  
  
Forge nodded, impressed with the way Alexandra had obviously been keeping up with   
  
  
  
the case. "Yes. Is this case of particular interest to you?"   
  
  
  
  
  
She shrugged. She had found it very interesting, but she wasn't quite sure why -   
  
  
  
something had drawn her to it. In fact, that was what had kept her away last night -   
  
  
  
she'd been comparing the evidence - what little there was - with other cases, and she'd   
  
  
  
come up an absolute blank. Whoever he - or she - was, they were a master. Which   
  
  
  
brought up a whole new list. She'd fell asleep contemplating it. "Ah just think it's   
  
  
  
interestin'... the guy leaves so little behind, an' what he takes is so select... ah think its   
  
  
  
weird."   
  
  
  
  
  
"That it is. And," added Forge, a twinkle in his dark eyes, "We need a good cop on it.   
  
  
  
What do you say, Deputy?"   
  
  
  
  
  
Xandra's eyes widened, not believing what she was hearing. "You... you mean it,   
  
  
  
suh!?"   
  
  
  
  
  
Forge grinned, and took her hand in his own to shake it. "Sure do... Detective."   
  
  
  
  
  
Xandra smiled at him a few moments before it set in what he meant. "Oh, mah..." She   
  
  
  
said, slack jawed.   
  
  
  
  
  
"That's right. The chief just told me."   
  
  
  
  
  
With a laugh, Xandra hugged him, and then grabbed her coat. "Ah'll get raht on that   
  
  
  
case now, suh! Thank ya!! An' thank th' chief fer me!" And with that, she was gone.   
  
  
  
  
  
End part 1.   
  



	2. On the beat part 2

on the beat 2   
On the beat 

chapter 2 

Disclaimer: Marvel's. Simple as that. 

by [Cat Smith][1] and [KazeRogue][2]   
  
  
  


Alexandra Thorne sighed and let her chin rest in her folded hands. She was tired and hungry and she didn't think there was one muscle in her body that wasn't aching, due to the hours she had spent sitting at her desk in the NYPD HQ, going through the evidences in her new case, or what little she had. The absolute fruitlessness of her work didn't help to lift her mood. Additionally, she despised this desk work. She felt rather like Power girl than Research girl. But during her time in the NYPD she had learned that she couldn't bump her head through every wall, though that was what she was still best at. So, she had sat down like a good girl and scanned through the file of Mr. X that was little more than rumors and worthless testimony. But this was the first big case that has been given to her after her promotion and Detective Alexandra Thorne wanted to solve it - badly. 

And so this complete lack of results after hours of hard work pissed her off big time. She tossed the file off her desk and searched for something to follow the example, at best something fragile, that would make a noise and maybe dampen her anger. Her glance fell to the framed picture of her still-boyfriend Cody, who was momentarily problem #2 on her list, and she had found what was most likely to follow the file. But before she could toss it, a strong hand clasped around her arm and held it firmly. 

"Hey, kid. Demolishin' yer furniture won't help much. Believe me, I know." Xandra heard the low, rumbling voice of Lieutenant Logan. 

Logan had been the one who had taken care of her when she had arrived as freshman from the police school in the Big Apple, in his own, gruff way, taught her what she needed to know to survive out there, on the streets. Rumors said he had once been an agent for the government and that his job here was some kind of retirement compared to what he had done before. Xandra didn't know why he was doing this, maybe out of boredom. Anyway, she was glad, she liked the man. But at the moment she was just too frustrated to deal with whatever he may want. 

"Logan, look, Ah'm not in the mood to talk. It's late and Ah... why are y'all here anyway, it's 10 p.m.?" 

"Could ask you the same question, kid. I don't like to hang at home and do nothing..." 

Xandra grinned. She knew Logan's apartment was rather a place where the mail was delivered to than where he lived, it would be the last place where she would look for him. 

"... and so I had to choose, stay here and see if I can help some overzealous would-be police officer, or go to 'Kurt's' and get drunk. And since I did that yesterday my constructive side won." 

Xandra could very well imagine Logan's previous evening. 'Kurt's' was their favorite haunt and the owner, Kurt Wagner, was a buddy of Logan, though Xandra had only found that out after weeks. It wasn't easy to tell if Logan was close to somebody, he hid that well. But Kurt was also a valuable source of information. He seemed to know everything that was going on in the town. Also, Xandra suspected Logan to have a special interest in Kurt's waitress, a pretty redhead called Jean, but she would never ask him. That was an unspoken rule in their friendship, don't meddle in the other's private life! 

"Thanks for th' offer, but Ah think Ah'm done here. Ah haven't made any progress, so that's it for today. Maybe tomorrow, when Ah'm able to think straight again, Ah'll have the brainwave Ah'm missing today." 

"Shall I drive you home?" Logan asked. 

Alexandra looked at the picture she still held in her hand. Home. To Cody. She wrinkled her nose. 

"No thanks, Ah think today's my 'Kurt's' day." she said after a moment of hesitation. She wasn't really in the mood for 'Kurt's', but that was better than having to face what she's been avoiding the last couple of weeks, a conversation with Cody. Like so many times before, Logan seemed able to read her thoughts. 

"If you need a place to stay, you can have my place, don't need it anyway." 

He tossed her the keys and she smiled at him thankfully. It was good to know there were people she could rely on. The young Detective stood up to finally leave her work place, her leather jacket in her hand when Logan addressed her once again. 

"By the way, remember the woman they arrested yesterday? The black one? Top class thief, maybe knows something about your mysterious friend." 

Well, that was at least something to start with the next morning, Xandra decided and thanked him. She walked to her new home, relishing the fresh air and not regretting for one second to have refused Logan's offer to drive her home on his Harley. The next day she would find something, get on in this Sisyphus task that arresting Mr X seemed to her. She would solve this case, she swore herself a holy oath. And nobody and nothing would stop her.   


  


The next morning, Detective Thorne entered the women jail. She asked the guard for the black thief that had been arrested the day before, showing him her ID and the permission she had got from Forge before. The guard led her to a cell and opened it for her to enter, then came in behind her. The woman sat at the window, looking out in the rain. She was incredibly exotic, with dark skin and white hair. She wore an inhibitor what was standard these days with mutant prisoners. Yes, mutants were accepted and, in the course of equality, were arrested in the same jails, but they had to wear these inhibitors to shut down their powers. 

The woman turned around to meet the young Detective's gaze and even Xandra felt timid for a second. The other radiated a dignity like no one else she had ever met. Even in the jail clothing she looked like a goddess. But Alexandra was nobody to be intimidated quickly. She walked towards the woman. 

"Ororo Munroe, Ah presume. Ah'm Detective Thorne of the NYPD." 

"I am sorry detective, I already told your colleagues everything I had to say. And I see no reason in involving another officer in this case." The thief said pleasantly, but firmly. 

"Ah'm not here to ask you about your case, but about the recent robberies in museums. This was a master and you played in that league, too. What do you know?" 

"I am sorry, I cannot help you." She answered, not even trying to conceal her lie. 

Xandra sighed and leaned a bit closer. 

"Look, sugar, this isn't about any honor stuff or whatevah y'all're holding onto. Ah want to get this guy, and Ah will get him. So Ah offer you something for any information you can give me. Help me and the judge will regard this at your trial. Maybe you'll even get away with probation. Jail can be cruel, y'know. 'Specially for someone with claustrophobia. Oh, don't look so shocked, it's all in your file." 

Stubborn silence was the only answer Xandra received. She looked at the guard who was standing next to the door dismissively. 

"Leave us alone please. Ah'll call for you when Ah'm finished here." 

When the guard had left she turned to Munroe again, smiling. 

"Look, sugar. We can do this the easy or the hard way. Ah'll get my information, no matter if you simply tell me or if Ah have to suck it outta your brain with my mutant power. Now it's your call. Which way shall it be?" 

The thief looked at the Detective who was already putting off her gloves. She would do it, Ororo knew it in the instant she looked in the other woman's eyes. She would and she could. She would drain every information out of her brain, not only about this particular thief, but also about herself and any other thief she had met in her life. Why offer the whole cake if the Detective would be also content with a tiny piece. She wouldn't get him anyway. What rumors Ororo had heard of that man indicated more a phantom than a human being. This girl in front of her wasn't a match for him. And freedom would be nice to taste again. 

"Probation?" She asked. 

"Probation." Thorne confirmed. She had already Forge's signature for this deal. 

"Alright," Ororo said "I'm afraid this isn't much. Nobody knows much of him, he is very much a loner." 

Xandra had figured that much, though the boy had quite 'guild quality'. But the Thieves Guild was just a myth and her colleagues would have laughed at her if she had drawn such a connection, although she firmly believed in the guild's existence. But at the moment, Mr X was definitely a loner. She motioned for the thief to go on. 

"Rumors say that his Interpol file is six inches thick, though they do not even know his name. You cannot hire him, he just does what attracts him. Just the dangerous pinches, he seems to like the thrill. He would not need the money anyway after everything he already pinched. He is a perfectionist. He is not likely to make a mistake, you will never find a trace of him if he does not want you to. He is also very creative. The way is the aim. His thrill is to get in and leave evidence that he made it, not particular the loot. Though he only goes for things worth the risk. I do not think you have a chance of finding him, he smells every trap. They call him Gambit, but this is not quite a gamble. He always wins. Maybe that is why he only does the big jobs. He likes the challenge. But he has not touched his limits yet." 

"Well, time he has." Xandra said, a determined look on her face.   
  


to be continued.... 

   [1]: mailto:cat_miow99@yahoo.com
   [2]: mailto:KazeRogue@hotmail.com



	3. On the beat part 3

on the beat 3 On the Beat   
chapter 3 

By [Cat Smith][1] and [KazeRogue][2]

Disclaimer: It's all Marvel's. Every bit.   
  


During her dinner hour, Xandra sat in her favourite spot, near the artificial lake just outside of the police station. It was quiet, still, and brought an inner peace. At least usually. But today was different. Her case was getting to her; the thief's apparent non-existence was incredible, almost unbelievable. But Xandra was sure Ororo Munroe had told the truth, and all that she knew. And since he couldn't be hired… 

As she glanced in the water, Xandra repressed a deep sigh at the sight of Cody's reflection approaching her. She did not need this now – it wasn't the right time. But then, when was the time right? Never. And since subtlety was no gift of hers, she took a deep breath and spoke the painful truth. 

"Cody, Ah think we should finish this." 

She felt the stillness beside her, and saw his amazed look in the water, but she turned away when it turned to one of hurt. 

"Ah'm sorry, Cody, truly ah am, but ah can't pretend Ah'm happy when ah'm not, an' this relationship ain't doin' either of us any good. It ain't workin' out, an' ah wanna finish it now, 'fore we go any further." A glance at their reflections saw Cody looking devastated, and so Xandra stood. 

"Goodbye, Cody." Those two simple words, so hard to say, but now they were said, it was as if a weight of enormous proportion had been lifted from her. She felt free; something she hadn't felt in too, too long. She walked away, and felt as if she were leaving something behind her, and she was. She was leaving behind her old life of comfort and security, of knowing what would happen everyday. It seemed her life was changing. Becoming more dangerous, yes, but with excitement and reason that it had previously lacked. It was with an aura of purpose that Xandra walked back into the police station which was so strong, it stopped even Bobby Drake flirting with her! 

Back at her desk, Xandra blinked in surprise at a black envelope placed conspicuously in the middle of the mess that was her desk, her name written on it in silver. She looked around suspiciously for a moment, then shrugged and opened it. She just hoped it wasn't from Cody. The next sound from the detective was a startled gasp. Inside the envelope was a single, small sheet of black paper, also hand written in silver. It read; 

"Pawn to B5. The game begins." 

Holding the paper and envelope tightly, Xandra ran out of her office and looked down the corridor. She saw a sea of faces, many unfamiliar, and cursed. Mr. X, Gambit, could be among this crowd, and she had no way to know, save from using her mutant power on everyone she didn't recognise, and that was hardly feasible. She swore colourfully and inventively. Glancing down at the paper then gave her an idea. 

Joining the crowd, she made her way to the staircase, and ran up the flight of steps to the next floor, frightening a startled janitor on the way up. She then made her way to an office at the end of the hall. Frowning a moment before she entered, Xandra knocked then entered before waiting for a reply. Before her, an unsurprised looking woman glanced up, a thin smile on her face. The appearance of the woman, with her lilac hair and slim, English Rose-style beauty was totally at odds with the fact that Elizabeth Braddock was one of the most powerful telepaths in the world. Xandra could not say she truly liked Betsy. She was too straight-laced, odd and silent to be likable. But she certainly respected her, and right now, she needed her help. She passed the paper and the envelope over. 

"Ah have reason ta believe that the guy who wrote this is a theif whose case ah'm working on. Ah was hopin' ya could find an imprint on it." 

Betsy nodded, then closed her eyes. She opened them with a frown. "I'm picking up amazement, but I assume it's your own. But other than that, this is a blank slate." 

"God damn it!" Cursed Xandra. "Another goddamn dead end." 

Betsy stroked her chin. "Maybe not. Whoever wrote this letter must be a mutant with considerable mental powers to black their thoughts from a letter. And also you should ask someone to look at the handwriting, and possibly Logan to see if he can pick up a scent – I suggest you let noone else touch this letter." 

"Bett's, ya're a genius!"   
Xandra was perched on the edge of Logan's desk. He was carefully sniffing the letter, trying to discern a scent other than hers, his or Betsy's. He frowned. 

"there's somethin'. I couldn't pick him out of a crowd, but… He's young, probably early twenties. Wears Fahrenheit. And… leather. And he's got auburn hair." 

Xandra blinked. "How in hell could ya know that from his scent?!" 

Logan grinned. "I don't." He held up a single strand of hair. Xandra stared at it. It was jaw length and auburn, just as Logan said. 

"Maybe it's a plant. Ororo said this guys a real pro…" 

"Maybe it is. He's givin' you a few clues, he likes the thrill, right? But maybe he's underestimatin' ya. Maybe you're better'n' he thinks?" 

Xandra looked at Logan for a long minute, then sighed. "So, Ah've gotta mutant with mental powers, auburn hair, who's young and wears Fahrenheit. Do I wait at the Elizabeth Arden counter and arrest every guy who matches the profile? How the hell do I find this guy?!" 

"I have faith in you, kid." Logan put a hand on her shoulder. "The scent's gotta lotta hormone in it – this guy's pretty horny. Maybe you should let him look for you, not the other way around." 

Xandra scowled at him. "Ah ain't some kinda whore, nor do I intend to act like one." 

"Not even if it wins this case for you?" Xandra gave him a long look as she considered.   
  


to be continued... 

   [1]: mailto:cat_miow99@yahoo.com
   [2]: mailto:KazeRogue@hotmail.com



	4. On the beat part 4

on the beat 4 Disclaimer: The characters are Marvel's solely, every single bit... 

On the beat   
chapter 4 

by Cat Smith and KazeRogue   
  
  


Sighing, the young Detective closed the folder that lay in front of her. This was getting her nowhere. She had given the single strand of hair she had found in the envelope to the laboratory, ordering them to do a DNS analysis. Now, finally, the results had arrived, and all she had learned was that Gambit was a mutant. Big clue! She had suspected that after reading in the files how easily he had evaded every security system during his pitches. That WAS supernatural. 

The labrats were still trying to identify his mutant power and knowing them Xandra gave up the hope to have the results within this week. They hadn't even found a match in the data bank. This guy really knew how to cover up his tracks. But at least there had been matches to other DNS scans made after other robberies. When all there had been left at the scene of crime had been a hair, or a scale of skin. So at least they had a lot to charge him of when they caught him. If they caught him. 

Determined to try the seemingly impossible, Alexandra Thorne got up and copied the sheet with the locations and dates of the matching robberies on it - which was against regulations - and left the Police departments with the copy hidden in a secret side pocket of her bag - which was against regulations. 

Common police work wouldn't help her here. If she really wanted to find this thief, she had to extend her boundaries a bit. And she knew exactly where to start.   


  


The area was as filthy as they get, where people tend to mind their own business - which was perfectly fine. Nobody would have suspected the most genius computer expert to have their 'store' in an old garage there, without even a sign giving evidence of it's existence. Exactly the way Katherine Pryde liked it. Daytime programmer at a middle-sized Computer company, she turned into software dealer and hacker-girl at night. And her friendship to a NYPD Detective had kept her back clear. Not that she had ever left any evidence when her deals crossed the line of being legal, and since she was very selective when choosing her customers, she didn't consider herself as being a criminal. Her products weren't used for evil purposes, at least she did everything to secure that. 

One of her regular customers was said Detective. She had sold her several hardware pieces and self-written hacker software that no Police officer should own. But Xandra wasn't a common police officer, she knew one had to howl with the wolves at times, if one wanted to arrest them. But sometimes even the extensive illegal equipment at her home PC and her hacker skills weren't enough for her to get the information she needed. It was then that she turned to her friend with an order that would not only prove to be hard work but interesting as well. So Kitty smiled at the woman opposite, taking the list Xandra handed her. 

"These are the dates of the crimes. Ah need the air traffic with passenger lists of each in the period of the robbery. Leave out the regular passengers at the routes, compare the remaining to resemblances, compare them to the guestlists of the hotels in the area. He will be flying with a faked ID, so Ah need every remaining name on th' list checked whether there's a birthdate and location. Hopefully our dear Master thief hasn't used the names of existing persons." 

Kitty nodded, not looking the Detective in the eyes. Her mind was already considering the line of action, when a question sprang to her mind. 

"What will you do with the names? His aliases won't be of much use to you." 

"First, Ah can maybe make a personality profile. Second, Ah need a check on matching names currently residing in local hotels." 

"Uh huh. Consider it done. I'll call you ..uhm.. Thursday." 

"Tomorrow." Xandra said while turning around to leave the garage. 

"Hey, I have a life besides playing your Jimmy Olsen!" 

"Tomorrow." the Detective closed the door. 

"Bite me"   


  


Xandra entered Logan's apartment and leaned against the doorframe closing her eyes for a second. This wasn't the cosiest of places, and her new case did nothing else but making her feel like a failure. She had been so thrilled when Forge had given it to her, her chance, her acid test. And she was getting nowhere. Through the turmoil of her thoughts she heard the beeping of the answering machine. She hadn't even known Logan had a telephone. 

She slowly strode towards the desk, kicking off her shoes as she did so. 23 messages. Great. Cody must have found out where she had gone. Big clue, how many friends had she that weren't actually Cody's friends. In that instant the phone rang again. Xandra looked at it almost hostile, as if the ringing was an assault at her persona. She didn't move to pick up the receiver and finally the answering machine went on. The Detective rolled her eyes when the voice at the other end of the line was really Cody's. 

>>Xandy.. 

Gawd! How she hated his nickname for her! 

>>Please, pick up the phone... Xandy, c'mon, Ah know that ya're home... Can't we even talk lahk normal persons anymore? 

Though everything inside of her screamed to not do so, she was tempted to pick up the phone and talk to him, at the sound of his tired voice, but an instant before her hand touched the receiver, Cody let out a sharp breath and he lost his patience. 

>>Damn you Alexandra! You're just as much a bitch as your goddamn mother! Go ta hell. KLICK 

Xandra's hand froze millimetres above the phone, then started to tremble. Her features turned from shock to fury. She finally picked up the receiver, her fist clenching around the plastic so hard that her knuckles turned white, and threw it against the opposite wall. Panting, she glared at the answering machine as if she could set it on fire with her stare. 

Swallowing her anger, she walked to the wall, dangerously calm, and picked up the receiver to replace it on the station. In that very moment the phone rang again, but Xandra just stared at it coldly, waiting for the answering machine to go off another time, an air of indifference layering over the rage that was still boiling in her guts. It was Cody again. 

>>Xandy, Ah.. Ah'm sorry. Ah shouldn't have compared ya ta yoah mother. Please... 

Alexandra's hand grabbed the receiver, this time not to toss it, but to lift it to her ear. 

"Listen, Cody, if ya say Ah'm lahk my momma, Ah'm proud o' it! Ah love mah mom, an' no matter what she did, that won't change! And now LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!" 

She tossed the receiver back on the station and pulled the cable out of the wall to keep that moron from disturbing her any further. 

Then, a smile creeped up her face. Her mother, of course.. why hadn't she thought of this earlier? Who could teach her better to think like Mr. X than Mrs. X herself? Again, it was time to pay the women's jail a visit.   


  


Interlude: 

The shadowy figure watched the young woman with growing interest as she yelled at someone on the phone, then hung up and slammed her fist into the wall. He retreated to the outermost corner of the sill he was crouching on as she approached the window, hoping that she wouldn't perceive him, stirred as she was. He should leave now, an inner voice screamed, but he couldn't tear himself away from his observing place. He tried to convince himself that he was just studying his opponent as he watched the young Detective stare into the rain. 

But when the look of anger on her beautiful face turned to one of sadness and a single tear crossed her face, passing her trembling lips while she leaned her head against the glass, eyes closed, he could barely restrain from reaching out with his hand as if to comfort her from the other side of the window. Her shoulders twitched treacherously as she sobbed silently, then she took a deep breath and pulled herself together visibly. As she opened her eyes again, he could see determination there. 

The young thief couldn't help but feel like an intruder. He had observed the woman in a very private moment, had witnessed a weakness at the memory of an old pain, a weakness she would have never shown him deliberately. He had observed people a thousand times before, gleefully noting every weakness that he could later use against them. But this time all he felt was remorse at having stolen a bit of the woman's soul. For the first time in his life, Remy LeBeau felt remorse for being a thief. 

End Interlude   


  


Raven Darkholme watched her foster daughter closely. She was nervous, but that didn't show in her face or her gestures. Good. She had taught her well. Xandra wanted something, Raven could tell as much, but she wouldn't make this easier for her. She would wait till her daughter found the nerve to tell her what she wanted. The nerve Raven had preached her endlessly to find when she had been younger. The world would give her nothing if she didn't demand it. And family was there to offer practise. 

Xandra couldn't help but glance at the power suppression collar her mother wore from time to time. There she was now, recently promoted Detective, face to face with her mother, the terrorist. Before the declaration of equality between humans and mutants has been signed, her mother had been very... 'intent' in fighting for the mutant rights. Xandra approved of her mothers intentions and her bravery to stand up against a suppressing system. She didn't approve of her means to do that though. But that was past long gone, and now that her mothers goals were finally achieved, she couldn't relish them in freedom. 

Xandra sighed. These were the issues her mother had to deal with, and she had always known the consequences her actions might have on her. And as far as the Detective could tell, Raven wasn't doing that bad in imprisonment. She seemed calm, at peace with herself. And she was really interested in what Xandra told her, about her promotion, about her break-up with Cody, all the news she had to offer, evading the subject at hand. But this small-talk wouldn't help her arrest Gambit. The young woman took a deep breath. 

"Momma, Ah need yoah help. Ah'm working on this case, and Ah'm kinda struck. Ah hoped maybe ya could help me in anticipatin' the guy's next move." 

Raven smiled. "Who are you searching, honey?" 

"A phantom."   
  
  


to be continued.... 


	5. On the beat part 5

on the beat 5 Disclaimer: Marvel's 

On the beat 

Part Five 

KazeRogue and Cat Smith   


After the chat with her mother, Xandra needed to think. Not wanting to intrude on Logan's kindness again, she made her way to Kurt's, and settled down at the bar. 

"Xandra! How are you!" Jean sat on the stool next to Xandra, who managed a weak smile. "Are you okay?" 

Xandra leaned forward, and sighed. "Ah've just had a rough week, sugah." 

Jean placed the tray she was holding on the bar, and glanced up at Kurt, who wandered over. 

"Is something wrong, Maedchen?" ::note, Maedchen = girl, your German expert Kaze ^___^:: 

In spite of herself, Det. Thorne grinned. "Wow, Ah never knew Ah had so many friends!" The she got serious. "Well, if ya really wanna know... Ah dumped Cody. There ain't any other word fer it, Ah dumped him. But Ah guess that's a good thing. Hoever, the harrassment Ah'm getting from him ain't." 

Jean hugged Xandra. "I'm so proud of you! Kurt and I saw how unhappy you were with him. We're so glad you finally plucked up the courage to get rid of him." 

Xandra stared at the two of them. Was she really that readable? Then she remembered that Jean was a telepath, and shrugged. She jumped in fright as Kurt slammed down a drink in front of her. 

"Southern Comfort, on the house... As long as you tell us what else is the matter." 

Xandra grinned at the two of them. "Ah know what you two are up ta, ya just want gossip!" 

Jean rolled her eyes. "Oh no, Kurt! Our secrets been found out!" 

"Ya can quit wi' tha melodrama, hon. Ah'll tell ya, already!" She settled into a more comfortable position. "Plus there's a case ah'm workin' on - confidential, ya understand. It ain't goin' well. Ah've just talked to mah mom about it, ah gotta think things over..." 

"We had better leave you be, for now, then, Alexandra. But you must tell us when you have more gossip, ja?" 

Xandra laughed and nodded. "You bet ya, Kurt. 'Specially if it gets me free drinks!" Xandra turned to look at Jean and was surprised to see a look of wistfulness on her face. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she spoke. 

"I... I haven't seen Logan in here for a while. Is he well?" 

Xandra blinked in astonishment. She had never once considered that the beautiful redhead would return Logan's tender feelings toward her. It seemed that Jean was sensittive enough to see the tender interior inside Logan's rough and hardened exterior mask. Well, Xandra wished them all happiness. Maybe she'd even do a little matchmaking! 

"He's fine, Jean. Ah'll tell him ya asked next tahm ah see him, get him ta pop in." 

Jean expression instantly lit up. "Really? Thank you, Xandra. We miss him in here..." Kurt flashed at amused glance back at Jean, who blushed. "Anyway, I'd better get on with doing my job and leave you to your thoughts!" She picked up the tray and wandered off, leaving Xandra alone. She sighed, and settled her head down to rest on her chin, to think over her mothers advice. 

--Interlude-- 

He couldn't take his eyes from her. The young woman - the Detective, he reminded himself - sat at the bar, staring into her drink. She had this air of innocence, maybe even naiveté, that made her seem vulnerable, made him want to protect her from all the evil in the world that she was apparently oblivious to. He observed her, her every movement, the way she tapped her feet to an unknown rhythm, the way she sat on the barstool, like a child, her knees pressed together timidly, oblivious to her own attractiveness and the glances she drew from the other men around. 

His eyes wandered over her well-shaped body, her slender arms, her chin, that rested in her hand, while she was deep in thoughts, entangled in her own world, where she lived in childish innocence. Eventually, his gaze was drawn to her eyes, and behind those deep green seas he could see a harsh reality. Like his, hers were eyes that had seen too much and he realized that her own world was neither one of naiveté nor innocence, but one of hurt and pain. And though he could see determination there, he wanted nothing else but take away every burden she was carrying, take her in his arms and hold her tight forever. 

She was the most intriguing person he had ever met, full of contradictions, of conflicts. She was his soulmate. She was the ultimate challenge. She was ... the enemy, he reminded himself. 

--End Interlude --   


The mask of Ra was being touted as one of the most precious, priceless things on earth. Made of pure gold with inlaid Lapiz Lazuli and studded with diamonds, and a trim made of a substance the scientists had not yet identified, the Egyptian treasure was a wonder to behold. 

Xandra's eyes narrowed as she gazed, not at the mask but around it, at the security devices. They were impressive enough. To the untrained eye, it was merely surrounded by a glass cabinet. But Xandra knew that the cabinet was extremely touch-sensitive, and was surrounded by camera's, motion detectors, lazers and countless other mechanisms. And she knew they wouldn't be enough. At her mothers behest, she had gone away and thought about where Mr. X might strike next, and since Mystique had hinted that it wouldn't be obvious, she had thought hard. The Mask of Ra, though priceless, was not an obvious candidate. It had arrived in New York only yesterday, unannounced. It had been flown straight in from Cairo, and the museum curators were so excited, that they had sent the crown jewels that had previously found their home in the glass case home to their obscure European country. Since the mask was staying for only two days, it left virtually no time for planning, the security was tight, and it was a pinch worth having. Tempting bait indeed, for the Gambit. 

Xandra sighed and sat down on the veiwing bench. So many things to think about, and right now, the main thing on her mind was not related to the case. It was Cody. Not remorse for having left him, but utter fury at the way he had treated her since. As though she was a prize to be won back. A trophy to stand by his side to make him look good. But she was no prize and she wasn't going back to Cody. She- 

"It's beautiful, no?" The strangely accented voice came from beside her. She glanced at the man who had joined her on the seat, and her eyes widened. 

Ah could say th' same ahbout you, hon, she thought. The man was exquisitely handsome, and she decided right there that if she were to have a relationship 'on the rebound', it would be with him. 

"The mask... such an un'spected treaure t' grace our city. C'est formidable." 

"Ya're French?" Xandra asked. The man smiled and shook his head, red-on-black eyes gleaming mischeivously at something Xandra couldn't fathom. 

"Non, I from N'Awlins. A Cajun." That was where the ultra-sexy accent came from, then! 

"Oh, Ah'm from Down South mahself. Caldecott County in Mississippi. One o' th' dullest places on earth, so Ah won't be insulted if ya ain't heard o' it." 

"Strange how such a beautiful rose bloomed in such a dull place," he grinned and kissed her hand. To her horror, Xandra couldn't stop the blush that rose to her cheeks. 

"Ha ha," she forced herself to laugh weakly, and sat there in miserable silence for a few seconds, trying to think of something so witty and utterly adorable to say that the man would ask her out to dinner and maybe back to his place afterwards. She failed miserably, and the man rose, kissing her hand again. 

"I mus' go now, but I t'ink we'll meet 'gain, Ms. Thorne." The man walked away, and she enjoyed the view. The next few minutes were taken up with thinking about how gorgeous the guy was, then frowning. She was sure she hadn't told him her name... She cursed loudly, making the other inhabitants of the room start violently. Red-on-black eyes marked him as a mutant. Auburn hair was tied back and probably jaw-length. He was young and gorgeous enough that he must be horny. Add to that the delicious smell of Farenheit that still hung in the air, a silent, graceful walk and a New Orleans accent to back up her Theives Guild theory, and she was almost certain she had her guy. 

Xandra leapt up and sprinted out of the room, skidding to a halt in the corridor. The guy was nowhere to be seen. Picking the path that led to the way out, she ran, checking every room and finding nothing. Standing still and defeated in the last room, home to a complete dinosaur skeleton, she swore and put her hands on her hips in frustration. It was then that she noticed something fluttering down from the sky. A feather? A petal? She caught it and found it to be a note. 

"It seems I'm winning the game so far. Let's see who wins this round. " 

She stared at it. It was the exact same writing as the note she'd found on her desk. So it was him! She looked up quickly. Where could the note have come from, in this one level room? Not the air-conditioning system, surely? Then it hit her. The sky light. 

She bolted out of the room, and up the stairs. When a security officer tried to stop her getting onto the roof, she flashed her police badge and pushed him out of the way. 

When she got there, the man was stood, waiting for her, hands in his pockets. She stared at him incredulously, and reached for her gun. 

"Freeze!" She yelled, and pointed it at him, suspicious of some sort of trap. 

He put his hands up, a gentle, teasing look on his face. "O' course, ma cheri. I jus' wanted ta warn ya dat dere be more dang'rous criminals dan m'self 'bout. Y' should ask y' friend Kitty about it... An' me." With that last, he launched himself off the roof. 

"No!!!" Screamed Xandra, and dove to grab his hand. She blinked, leaning over the roof top. No street pizza. He wasn't grabbing onto a window below. Where the hell was he!?! She sat down in frustration, knowing that she'd only been allowed to see him for a reason - to make the 'game' fair, and for him to pass on his message. But what on earth did it mean? At least she knew where to start. She set off for Kitty's house. 

End.   



	6. On the beat part 6

Disclaimer: Marvel's  
  
Words in ' ' are thoughts, more precisely, Xandra's thoughts ^_-  
Thanks to Roguestar for checking over my translation of the French poem (I'm in DESPERATE need for some practice ^_-)  
  
On the beat  
part 6  
  
by Cat Smith and KazeRogue  
  
  
  
Quand le serpent se sent mal  
Dans sa peau  
Il en sort lentement  
Silencieusement  
L'abandonne sur la terre brûlée  
Et glisse entre les pierres nues  
Ses membranes fraîches  
À la recherche d'un habit plus digne  
~ by Monica Skandrani  
  
When the serpent feels unwell  
In its skin,  
It will leave it slowly  
Silently  
Abandon it on the burnt earth  
And slide between the naked pebbles  
His skin fresh, tender, new   
Searching for a more dignified costume  
  
  
  
Like a demon out for vengeance Xandra bolted into Kitty's store, not bothering about the Hardware components that were as usually spread over the whole floor. That entrance even made the Computer freak Kitty acknowledge her presence and she stuck out her head from the casing she was screwing in.  
  
"Hey, Sherlock, look out! The drive your standing on isn't the cheap stuff you are used to!" The teasing was a part of their normal play, giving their complex friendship, the friendship of a Detective and a 'criminal', an air of lightness. So Kitty smirked as she pointed at the drive lying on the floor, a mock stern look in her eyes, that didn't hide the sparkle too well.  
  
Normally Xandra would have asked why it was lying on the floor then, among the mess that Kitty would have called 'the order of a genius', but she was way too pissed off to waste a thought at something as unimportant when the trust in her closest friend had been betrayed. Her eyes narrowing, she stood in front of the young hacker, dangerously calm. Kitty wore an innocent smile that even Xandra couldn't have pretended, used at wearing masks as she was.  
  
Noticing that Xandra was here for business, the teasing gleam left her eyes, and she told her friend about her results, or lack of these.  
  
"Sorry, but I haven't found out about your Mr. X till now, the proggy is still running, but there was just too much data to deal with."  
  
"Stop it..." Xandra's whisper was calm, almost threatening, she was keeping herself barely at bay. Kitty looked at her confused, still playing the innocent, ignorant fool. And that was more than the tense nerves of the Detective could take.  
  
"Was it fun seein' me hunt a phantom? Laughin' with him behind mah back? Oh, C'mon, don't look at me so surprised! Ah know that ya know him! And what about this ominous data? Faked, huh? Ta lead me on th' wrong track! And Ah thought ya were mah friend!"  
  
"Xandra! What are you talking about? I have no clue who your Mr. X is, really!" What was THAT about? Kitty had never seen her friend that enraged. She was shocked, even a bit frightened. Obviously, Xandra hadn't forgotten everything her mother had taught her...  
  
"Well, how comes he knows you then?" Thorne tapped her feet impatiently.  
  
"He.. he might be one of my customers, but really.. oh.. oh wait, my God, of COURSE! Why haven't I thought of him before? He MUST be it! A man who bought a laptop here once..."  
  
"Ah don't presume you have a name or an address?"  
  
"I did, but now that I think of it... it's surely a fake.., my, this boy must be good when he fooled me!" Kitty shook her head in reluctant admiration.  
  
"And why would he think that ya know something 'bout a big, bad criminal in town?"  
  
"I have no clue.. well, let's go someplace else, where we can talk... just give me a sec."  
  
While Kitty rushed through the door at the opposite wall, into a provisional living room, the Detective wondered if the garage wasn't the best place to talk, still a glint of suspicion left in the back of her mind. But then, she shrugged it off, waiting in the garage instead of following her friend to the living room, where she would have found her whispering urgently to a young man with jaw length auburn hair and unusual eyes hidden behind sunglasses, motioning him to leave the place through the back door. But thus, Xandra smiled as Kitty returned, her parka and a laptop in her hands.  
  
"Okay, let's go!"  
  
***************************  
  
The club was humming with conversation and goth music, while some freaks danced with closed eyes and an enraptured smile, that gave evidence either of drugs or an innate freakiness that had made them outcasts from society. Probably both.  
  
Detective Alexandra Thorne simply lifted an eyebrow when Katherine dragged her into this place, never wasting a thought at calling her colleagues to take out this junkie hole, rather wondering why her friend has chosen this place of all to talk with her. But Kitty seemed very acquainted with the club and it's customers, greeting the freaks who seemed to accept her as one of their own. The young hacker only winked at her, whispering that a place with no ears was the best place to talk. Resigning herself to this fate, Xandra sighed and followed the other woman to one of the free tables.  
  
When seated, Kitty immediately opened her laptop and started typing, oblivious to Xandra's unnerved glare. But before the Detective could say anything, she looked up again, frowning.  
  
"As we presumed, the name he gave me is a fake, but very good concealed. I walked into his trap blindly."  
  
From Kitty's frown and her thinned lips, Xandra could tell that this disturbed her very much. The fact that somebody HAD managed to get the better of her and tricked her into 'supporting' a crime, and the fear that the impossible might have happened before as well. But this was business, major league, the Detective needed infos and had no time to comfort the defeated hacker. Professional as she was, Kitty already went on.  
  
"About this mysterious villain Mr X was talking about... There has been an abrupt increasement of homicides last week, bad stuff, wouldn't want to see the forensic reports. All unsolved of course. That might indicate he was right."  
  
Instincts honed for years in the service of first Mystique, then the NYPD took over as Xandra smelled a case coming. She wasn't in the homicide department, but if she called her colleagues, what could she tell them? That she's got a tip from a hot Master Thief that had been confirmed by an illegal hardware/ software dealer and hacker?  
Sure! No, she had to go after this herself....  
  
"Can ya give me a location?"  
  
"I already sent out emails to various... sources. We can only wait and see what they come up with."  
  
Kitty motioned to her laptop, to indicate that they would know immediately when her request had been answered.  
  
"KATYA!" both women winced at the low baritone next to them, but before they could say anything, a living mountain had grabbed Kitty into a tight hug. Xandra only smirked as the younger woman's eyes bulged out of their sockets, her lungs squeezed in the embrace.   
  
"Peter, hi, have you met my friend, Xandra?" she said breathlessly, attempting to free herself.  
  
The human coloss turned to smile at the Detective, the expression on his face betraying his simple mind.  
  
'Great' Xandra thought with a wry smile. 'Brain has found her Pinky.'  
  
Admittedly, a nearly 7 ft tall Pinky...  
  
'Now Ah know why they called th' book 'of men and mice'.'  
  
"Katya, have you seen my latest painting?"  
  
"Peter is an artist," Kitty said explainingly in Xandra's direction, while motioning Peter to get the painting for her to see.  
  
'Oh, pleeeeeeaaaaase, you droolworthy hunk of a dream, show us your comic strips.'  
  
The Russian returned with a sheet and started to explain what was obviously highly "inspired" by Miró.  
  
"I drew this last night, when my restless soul wouldn't let me sleep..."  
  
Xandra rolled her eyes. 'Would it be too impolite ta sigh now theatrically an' declaim Shakespeare?'  
  
"I was ... like under a spell. I drew frantically, couldn't stop until it was finished..."  
  
'Ya should cut shorter on th' drugs, sugah! But well, Ah can clearly see th' frantical here.'  
  
"I had such an adrenaline rush, that I even tore off my night clothes and went on drawing nude..."  
  
'Great, now Ah'm gonna be sick the rest o' the' week!'  
  
"But of course this image is nothing compared to what I could create with two beautiful women like you as models."  
  
'Oooooh, Ah think Ah'm gonna faint....'  
  
"If you would permit me to draw you, I would love to invite you in my atelier..."  
  
'Oh my, oh my, oh my, oh my, ....'  
  
"...though I already had the pleasure to draw Kitty..."  
  
'... my oh my oh.. WHAT???? Puhlease! Have some mercy with mah stomach!'  
  
Kitty looked at Xandra almost apologetically, then drew Peter's attention, giving Xandra the opportunity to get out of the conversation without being too impolite.. what she surely would have been if listening to Peter any longer. Lucky Petey!  
  
  
  
... to be continued in part 7 


	7. On the beat part 7

Disclaimer: Marvel's  
  
Note: Part 6 and this part were originally one chapter, but it got so big I decided to split it up. That's the odd reason why this chapter starts with an interlude.  
  
On the beat  
Part 7  
  
by Cat Smith (jhs0cls@leeds.ac.uk) and KazeRogue (KazeRogue@hotmail.com)  
  
  
  
Interlude 1  
  
*Know your enemy*  
  
He knew her, inside out. Had observed her, watched every step she took, followed her everywhere. He had overheard her conversations, had assessed her speed, power and intelligence. He needed to be able to predict her actions, to read her thoughts before she thought them. He smirked inwardly as he watched the Detective sitting next to his Co-conspirator, obviously bored by the Russian's gabbling and his unskilled attempt at flirting. She got up and started to wander aimlessly, sipping at her drink from time to time, watching the various creatures of the night that the wind had blown here, to their refuge.  
  
She wouldn't let them entangle her in their enraptured dance of escape, their flight to a place where they were accepted, one among many. But Xandra wasn't one for escape, had never been. Had always taken her stand, even in situations desperate enough to drive a good person insane.  
  
She remained observer, not noticing that she was observed herself. While her eyes wandered over legion faces, her mind shut out the alien impressions, her thoughts turned inwardly and her face closed up. In this second she was gone for Remy LeBeau. As much as he had been convinced before that he knew her, she confused him now, where he had read her like a book, was now a blur, as facts considered impressions and opinions seemed illogical, even ridiculous now. There was a part about her that was out of his reach, closed up, secured from him. In this moment, he craved to touch her, pull her close and suck in her very essence, drown in theses sea green eyes, merge with her. Know her inside out.  
  
An instant before his hand could touch her hair, the thief pulled back, cursing himself for his own dumbness. She was the enemy! What had he been thinking? But Remy knew way too well what he had been thinking. He wanted to... to know the enemy, he convinced himself. But what was it about her that captured him so much?  
  
~end Interlude 1  
  
  
Xandra spun around, but there was no one to be seen. Confused, the frowned, being sure that she had felt someone close behind her. She shrugged the thought off, then looked at her surroundings again. She was at a calmer part of the club, that didn't seem as freaky as the rest, more the kind of evening entertainment a first league underground boss would prefer. Expensive furniture, noble curtains and ... a door at the opposite wall that seemed way too interesting to not be examined.   
  
The Detective slowly stepped closer, careful to not make any unnecessary noise, extending her - for some odd reason - trembling hands. Inches over the doorknob, someone cleared his throat behind her.  
  
"Sorry, ma'am, but this is a private room, please return to the public area." The blonde looked like the model of all British butlers. Dignified and with an air of arrogance, as if he would possess the club. But before Xandra could show him her badge and say that she didn't give a damn about private room or not, Kitty appeared from the public area, sighing relieved as she saw her.  
  
"Ah, there you are. Come on, quick, I have news... oh, hi Warren. Bye Warren."  
  
Butler Warren only lifted an eyebrow as Kitty dragged the Detective with her.  
  
"One of my sources mailed back" Kitty whispered conspirationally as the two women crossed the dance floor.  
"He has seen a man that COULD be our mysterious villain. He gave me the address of the motel he's checked in and a possible alias."  
  
Xandra grinned at her friend.  
  
"Good work, Watson."  
  
"No prob, Sherlock." Kitty smiled back. "So, are we going?"  
  
"'I' am going, Kitty. You go home and keep a low profile."  
  
"But..."  
  
"No 'but'. This is serious. Ah don't want anything ta happen ta ya. Please, this is police work. Ya did your part, now it's mah turn."  
  
The Detective turned around and left the club without another word, leaving behind a hacker with a very bad conscience.  
  
  
  
Interlude 2  
  
*know yourself*  
  
He was the best thief in the world. That was a matter of fact to him. Some of his colleagues called him overconfident. His father and his brother certainly did. But they didn't understand that there was a difference between being overconfident and risking everything to be the best. He DID care what happened to him, and in an odd sense, this was the reason he embraced every challenge with a song in his heart. He wasn't an action junkie, he planned very precisely, ruling out every possible risk. THAT was the challenge, beating the risk, not the pinch itself. Evaluate, then minimize the risk and then, when everything had turned out the way he had predicted, look at his handiwork in a moment of stillness, with the satisfaction and pride of an artist who had finally finished a very complex painting. These were the seldom moments his restless soul was at peace, eased down in the knowledge that he had proven once again that there was something he was really good - best! - at.   
  
Admittedly, the adrenaline rush wasn't bad either. Driving both his body and mind to the extreme, the tension when waiting for the right moment to strike, the thrill during the execution, the concentration when working after his timetable on the dot. That made life worth living. And what better price to gamble with fate for, than a moment of peace for someone who has been tossed around by an ever-changing wind all his life, a moment of control.  
  
Shaking off the thought, he focussed on where the wind had blown him this time.  
  
~end Interlude 2  
  
  
New York. Far from Manhattan. Far from the Statue of Liberty. Rather close to the dirt. Close to the smell. Very close to the police sirens, that belonged as much to the sounds of the night in this area as did the gunshots and screams.   
  
A filthy motel. One of those where people go who don't want to be found, want to be left alone.  
  
A beautiful woman. Her black leather jacket little protection against the cold the night brought, thus only reluctantly removing her hands from her pockets to open the door of the motel, hurrying to close the door behind her.  
  
"Detective Thorne, NYPD."  
  
Xandra flashed her badge at the old wrench, who didn't even bother to look at it and, obviously used to the procedure, already opened the guestbook. The she looked at the young Detective, eyes narrowed.  
  
"Who?"  
  
Xandra motioned the 'concierge' to pass on the book and skipped through the filthy pages herself, frowning. When she had found her suspect, she closed the book and handed it back.  
  
"Number 37."  
  
The old woman nodded silently, got the key and motioned Xandra to follow her up the cracking stairs. In front of the door, the woman took her time with the key, then after Xandra had motioned her to step aside, shuffled out of the Detectives way.   
  
Not bothering with a knock or another announcement, she entered the room carefully, the safety catch of her gun released, to find .. nothing. The habitant of the shabby room was gone. Obviously, he hadn't bothered to use the door, Xandra thought as she noticed the open window. She hurried to the opening to see nothing beyond, only a narrow sill. Looking up, she saw a movement, someone pulling up onto the roof.   
  
Determined, the Detective climbed out of the window herself and followed him up to the roof. When she saw the figure only a few steps ahead of her, she thought him trapped. Until he leapt to the roof of the opposite building and slid down the fire escape. Once he reached the ground, he took off down the street. Anticipating what he was doing, Xandra ran to the fire escape, slid down, and ran down the street after him. Traffic was stopped and he jumped on top of car, ran across the top and rolled into an alley way. He hurried to a fence climbed up and over and kept running, he was heading for the docks on the East River.  
  
The world slowly blended out. There was only the target and the way. Run. Breathe. Don't think. Thinking causes fear. Thinking about unsolved homicides. Thinking about your walkie-talkie that lies neatly in the top drawer of your closet, no help available. Don't think. Breathe. Trust your instincts. Feel the adrenaline rush. Use it to match the inhuman speed of the figure in front of you. Breathe. Don't stumble. Too late... now, your gun... breathe...  
  
"Freeze" Xandra yelled, lying on the floor, her gun aimed at the suspect. Trying to catch her breath, she pushed herself up again, never taking her eyes - or her gun - from the huge man.  
  
"Okay, sucker, show me your ugly face!"  
  
The Detective's triumphant grin faded into shock when she saw the man's smug one as he turned.  
  
"Hello, Xandra... missed me?"  
  
  
  
  
...to be continued in part 8 


	8. On the beat part 8

Disclaimer: Marvel's  
  
Thanks to Alexis for giving me the 'kick' of inspiration I needed in the 'action' scene (I'm just so bad at those ^^;;;)  
  
On the beat   
Part 8  
  
by Cat Smith (jhs0cls@leeds.ac.uk) and KazeRogue (KazeRogue@hotmail.com)  
  
  
The gun fell to the floor, making an unnatural noise in the sudden calmness on the nightly docks, but Xandra didn't hear it through the blood rushing in her ears. Terror creeped up her veins, like a serpent that waited for the right moment to perform it's deadly bite.  
  
Frantically, she thought about possibilities to get rid of her gloves, start a surprise attack and drain her opponent _before_ he could tear her guts out. She almost laughed hysterically as she remembered that he knew the nature of her powers well enough. She didn't stand a chance...  
Almost casually, the man strolled closer, lightning a cigarette.  
  
"Long time, no see, babe. Hey, what's wrong? Don't ya remember yer old buddy?"  
  
"Hi Creed" Xandra's whisper was hoarse, her stance betrayed her urgent need to flee.  
  
"What? No hug fer ol' me?" He grinned ferally as he stepped closer. "See, babe, it's a real shame our 'cooperation' back then didn't turn out as expected. Mmh, really liked yer mom, she was a hot chick. Pity she was turned in..."  
  
Xandra winced and Creed's smile became even wider, while a dangerous gleam entered his eyes. He mock-slapped his forehead.  
  
"Oh, I forgot. YOU turned her in. Bad bad girl. You betrayed us and blew the mission... that wasn't very nice, don't ya think so?"  
  
A low growl escaped his throat, becoming louder, more dangerous, as he tensed, then jumped at the young woman. Xandra stood like a statue, frozen, gaping as the feral mutant jumped at her, claws extended and saliva dripping from his fangs. Then it was over, he was past her, and all she felt was coldness.   
  
Her eyes still unnaturally wide, she looked down at herself and watched a dark liquid soak her shirt over her stomach. She lightly touched the wet area and looked at her now red fingers. Blood?  
  
With the realization came the pain. Hot, red pain, that savagely stabbed through her guts as her weakened knees gave way and she dropped into the dirt again. Through the red blur of her vision, she saw the beast approaching, then picking her up.  
  
"A real shame, babe. But ya had to find yer conscience, huh?"  
  
Xandra heard the words, but couldn't find a sense in them. Her mind was clouded and she barely even noticed as he dropped her again, until the East River took her into it's cold, deadly embrace.  
  
Reflexively, she opened her mouth to scream and it filled with icy water, nearly choking her. She moved frantically, tried to get to the surface again, but she didn't know which way was up anymore and the gash in her side punished her every movement with a flood of pain.  
  
After a few moments of hysteric paddling, Xandra calmed somewhat down. And with the calmness came the realization. The realization that she was dead. Then, her angel came to save her.  
  
******************  
  
Everything was working according to plan. The Detective was chasing the killer to the docks, where she confronted him. Remy, following at a safe distance, grinned inwardly as his two most dangerous adversaries opposed each other. The Detective that had come closer to his trail than any had before, and the killer that had been hired to clean the world of his handsome self.   
  
Kill two birds with one stone. Luckily, Kitty had helped him to trick Thorne into getting rid of Creed in his stead. The thought that it could be vice versa, that Creed could kill her, slit the tender, white skin of her neck, was suppressed grimly.  
  
She was the enemy. Sooner or later, he would have to defeat her. At any costs. He COULD not be imprisoned, would die there, needed his freedom like air to breathe. And he would keep this freedom for a long while, he thought smirking as he watched the scene on the docks unfold before his eyes.  
  
Obviously, Creed and Thorne weren't complete strangers. Well, this was not according to plan. They talked, and the Detective looked as if she had seen a ghost. Remy slowly approached the pair for he couldn't understand a single word they were saying. Then, suddenly, Creed became savage and attacked the woman. Remy froze in the middle of the movement, staring at the dreadful scene that played at the shore of the East River.  
  
The human beast slashed at the frail woman - Remy had never noticed before, how small and weak she was - and brilliant red blood spilled at the floor, mingling with the dirt. Then, he picked her lifeless body up, like a doll, and threw her into the river.   
  
Horrified, he watched her drown in the dirty water, saw every weak movement and stared at the point where she had been even after she was long gone.  
  
The low growl that was Creed's voice jerked him back into reality as he mockingly said good bye to the drowned woman and wandered away laughing.  
  
Then he ran. He hurried to the riverbay, stumbling over his own feet, though born with an enhanced agility. Terror filled him, terror that he might be responsible for another being's death. He knew that she HAD to be dead, that she had been underwater for too long, but images of her corpse, of the blood spilling from the gash in her abdomen, caused an incomparable horror in Remy that he knew he would never forget if he didn't try anything to make up for his self-righteous play.  
  
Deep down though, there was no trail of guilt or responsibility for the Detective's situation. There was only the thought that SHE IS GONE, that made him run and jump into the East River, fighting for his own consciousness at the impact and the strength to move on, to dive deeper until he saw her lifeless form flowing in an undertow.  
  
It was this thought, the thought of never seeing her again, that made him mobilize every resource his body still held, move towards her and grab her to pull her to the surface again. Gasping for air and trembling of the cold (had to be the cold...) he pulled Xandra to the docks, feeling her wrist, then her neck with numb fingers to find ... nothing. No pulse. No breathing.  
  
Frantically, he started to perform CPR on her, noticing with horror that everytime he pushed down her chest, fresh red blood flowed out of the gash in her side. If she didn't wake up soon enough, the bloodloss would kill her as certainly as the water in her lungs did now. Sheer horror written on his face, he went on and on, pushing her chest, breathing into her mouth ... way beyond the point where any medic would have given up.  
  
  
**************************+  
  
  
She was dead. She KNEW she had to be dead. Yet, she could feel every muscle of her body aching, felt the sting of the injury Creed had inflicted on her. She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn't listen to her orders. Forcing her mind out of the pitch black darkness it was embedded in, she grasped for the thin line of consciousness that tied her to reality. After a few moments of strain, she managed to open her eyes.  
  
To no use. The room she was lying in was darkened, the curtains locking out every possible ray of light. She moaned and lifted her hand to search for some kind of switch to turn on the lights. Bad mistake. At the sudden movement, her injury protested with a painful sting that made her wince and breathe sharply.   
  
"I switched dem off so your eyes wouldn' hurt, unused to de light."  
  
Xandra turned her head at the sound of the voice, but she needn't see the face in the dim light he now flashed on besides her bed to recognize the accent, the smoothness of the voice, though somewhat strained now.   
  
The thief's face looked hollow in the flickering light of the oil lamp he now put on her nightstand, but Xandra was sure he would look little better in daylight. He was obviously exhausted, way past the point of pure weariness, his eyes flickering around her features restlessly. He removed the blanket and pushed up her shirt a bit to check the bandages.  
  
"Good, de wound hasn't broken up again. Now, ya better be more careful."  
  
Xandra gleamed at him, suspiciously.  
  
"Why are ya helping me?"  
  
The thief only grinned tiredly.   
  
"Must be de gentleman inside o' me. But why 'aven't you helped yourself? Far as I know, ya're a cop, but ya did not'ing to defend yourself. Ot'erwise, le bête wouldn' 'ave been a match for you."  
  
He held her gaze now, trying to read her, trying to find out why she had let Creed get the better on her so easily. Xandra looked away. What should she tell him? That she felt she deserved to be punished for what she had did to her mother? She knew it had been the right decision, and she would do it again.   
  
But was this a good enough reason to betray her own mother and commit her to a life deprived of her highly cherished freedom? For Xandra, it was. Ever since, she had worked hard enough to gain her place among the side of the angels, to become a cop despite her past. It has always been clear to her who the good and the bad guys were.   
  
And she had promised herself to fight every single one of the bad guys. Like she would fight the thief that had just saved her life. By any means, she would be the one to make an end to his story of pinches. She turned to look at him again, spite and determination in her dark-ringed eyes.   
  
"Well, obviously, it ain't my business. Try to sleep a bit, chère, ya need de rest." Remy blew out the lamp and watched the Detective close her eyes and shift into a more comfortable position with his sensual eyes. He had seen the fire in her eyes, that was why he had told her to sleep. He wanted to escape this look on her face, but the image was unerasably burned into his memory. She would still fight him. He knew that now. Without making a noise, the thief left the apartment of Thorne's colleague, where he had brought her only hours before.   
  
  
  
  
...to be continued 


	9. On the beat part 9

On the Beat  
Part 9  
KazeRogue (kazerogue@hotmail.com) and Cat Smith (jhs0cls@leeds.ac.uk)  
  
Disclaimer: You know the drill: Everything's Marvel's an' not ours.  
  
Xandra sat there, staring at the television in Logan's apartment. She wasn't watching it, though. It was just there, on, to keep her mind from thinking. It wasn't working. Creed had nearly killed her; no surprise there. The thief had saved her life. Now there was a big surprise. Why on earth would he do that? Risk himself - his freedom - like that? Logan could have been there. She could have recovered. It had been days, almost a week. He'd taken a big risk. Why would he do it? The question ran round and round in her head, and with a sigh, she realised she would never know, not unless she asked him.  
  
Instead, she turned to difficult questions she could answer. Why had she reacted so badly to seeing Creed? Yes, it had been a surprise, and yes, she had reason to be scared. But to ignore all the training both her mother and the police had given her, especially when she had as much of an advantage on him a he had on her? It had been stupid - crazy. Perhaps she did feel guilty about Mystique. But she had broken the law. And Xandra knew, she smiled, that Raven still cared about her, and wouldn't want to see her dead.  
  
Leaning back, she sighed. Mystique regretted hiring Creed. He could do the job, yes, but he was a maniac, completely insane with a lust for blood that was horrifying. Closing her eyes, she remembered how brutal he had been on several of the missions, how disgusted even Mystique was at how far he would go.  
  
A door opened and Xandra sat up, grabbing the gun that lay on the table beside her, taking the safety off and pointing it unwavering at the door. To her utter relief, Logan walked in. She could have cried.  
  
"Logan!" She cried out, and tried to stand, but sat down quickly when her head spun crazily. He walked over quickly and knelt next to her.  
  
"What the hell's been goin' on? You really been in a fight with Creed?"  
  
Staring at his severe, stubbled face looking sternly at her, she wondered how on earth he could know that, and asked as much.  
  
"Got a phone call this mornin'. Cajun guy." He glanced sideways at her, to let her know he was very suspicious about this fact. "Tole me that you'd been in a fight with one Victor Creed and was recoverin' at my place. This true?"  
  
"Ah... Yes" She paused, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Ah'd hardly call it a fight, tho'. I was so ahfraid." Her eyes glazed over as she remembered. "Ah couldn't move. An'... I would have died. Should have died, but he - the thief saved me. Why would he do that?"  
  
Logan stood and sighed, pulling out one of the cigars he always carried. Walking to the other end of the room, he picked up a stool and put it down next to her armchair. For a second they both stared at The Partridge Family, then Logan, still looking at the television, started to talk.  
  
"Why did ya fight him? You coulda got back up. An' I'm sure there was a reason you didn't, but ya coulda called _me_. Yer real lucky that this thief was around, which is pretty damn suspicious anyway, or yer woulda got yourself killed. Ain't-"  
  
"Ah know, ah know!" Xandra put her head in her hands. "But. Ah've been thinkin'." She paused. What had she been thinking? "This thief... He's obviously got some soft side. He saved mah life, raht? So... If we wanna catch him, I could exploit that." She hated it. Hated to say it, would hate even more to actually do it. This thief had a caring, gentle side that had nothing to do with crime, that Xandra was starting to like. But she had a job to do. Didn't she? Something inside her was starting to feel uneasy about this. Ignoring it, she continued. "He must be watchin' me, or somethin'. So ah need ta start watchin' him. At least fahnd a way ta meet up with him. Start ta play him."  
  
Logan was looking at her very seriously. Xandra started to feel uncomfortable, those grey eyes looking at her so seriously. He put his cigar out. "Girl, I don't wanna see you get hurt again. If yer do this, make sure ya stay neutral. The guy saved yer life, fair enough that ya might start ter feel fer 'im. But don't. Don't, okay?"  
  
Xandra waved a hand. "Ah won't, Logan; ya don't need ta worry." Logan stood, and walked over to turn off the television. He then turned around and folded his arms.  
  
"I'm gonna find Creed. I'll deal with him; you deal with our thief. In the meantime, yer gettin' ter the doctor."  
  
Xandra stood, more slowly this time, so that she didn't get as dizzy. She felt stronger today, but still not as well as she stood. She took a small comfort in the fact that she knew the thief hadn't slept for days - he needed time to recover, too, and she doubted he would be able to steal a little of Logan's power to heal herself the way she could. With a smirk, she followed Logan out of the door. 'Who's the master thief now, sugah?'  
  
  
***********  
  
  
Xandra sat on the bed in the police infirmary, knowing it would be a while until she got seen. For a while, she thought about the work she could be doing, and got mad, and was about to complain, but then she sighed. She'd just have to wait, anyway, and kicking off would only make it worse. She settled back and picked up a magazine that lay on the table next to the bed. Flicking through several uninteresting articles, until she realised they were all boring, and started to read the problem page. As such, she wasn't taking much notice of what was going on around her, and almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a  
voice.  
  
"How y' doin', chere?"  
  
She looked up in amazement as she saw the thief, dressed casually in tight jeans and t-shirt, red eyes alert, face less gaunt than it had been, auburn hair looking just washed. Pushing away the urge to ask him what shampoo he used to get his hair that smooth and shiny, Xandra instead asked the question that had popped into her head the moment she saw him.  
  
"What in th' hell are y'all doin' here? Are ya crazy? Do ya wanna get caught? Ah-"  
  
He stopped her raving by putting two gloved fingers to her lips. "Shh, Detective. I don' wanna get caught, so I'd 'preciate it if y' were a l'il quieter."  
  
With astonishment, Xandra couldn't help but stare at the thief for a moment. He didn't want to get caught, yet he'd walked right into the police station - right into the arms of the people who were after him. She couldn't think of a single thing to say. Despite herself, she didn't yell out, didn't try to get him caught; though as for why, she had no idea. Maybe she wanted to catch him, rather than just this, caused by, seemingly, his stupidity.  
  
"If y' wan' know why I'm here, I jus' wanted t' know how y' were. If y' were okay." He sat down on the bed beside her, and looked at her. There was worry in his eyes, and it looked genuine. Xandra stared at him for a few seconds, then shook her head, realising that she'd never know the way this man's mind worked.  
  
"Ah'm fahn. Just waitin' foh the doc tah tell me that so ah can get back on yoah tail." She paused for a minute, then grinned. "Actually, sugah, ah got real bettah, real quick, as ah'm sure ya noticed." She pulled the t-shirt up to reveal a bandage-less, almost healed torso. "An if ya wanna know why, its 'cause ah stole some o' Logan's healin' power." She lay back, and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Not even you could manage that. Jealous?" She smiled, eyes still on him. She was shocked at herself. She was flirting shamelessly with this stranger, this thief! But she couldn't seem to help herself.  
  
The thief merely smiled, a mischievous glint in those exotic eyes of his. "Logan? Mon dieu, dere's name I never t'ought I'd hear 'gain." Then his expression sobred up, and he answered her question. "Non. Jus' relieved. I'm ver' glad t' see y're okay." He looked at her for a second, then moved so he was facing her. Xandra's heart skipped a beat as he gazed into her eyes. It meant something to be looking into someone's eyes for this long, she knew, and she shouldn't be doing it. But she couldn't look away. Those dangerous eyes seemed to hold her, to bewitch her. He seemed just as entranced as her. Watching as closely as she was, Xandra noticed a look in his eyes as though he'd just made a decision. For a second, she wondered what it was, and then found out as he lowered his head until his lips were mere inches from her own, then stopped.   
  
He was giving her a choice. Xandra knew what she wanted, and knew this moment may never come again. Lifting her head up, she held her mutant powers in check as their lips touched. It had been a long time - too long - since someone had kissed her with passion; with a passion strong and unyielding, a passion that, in this case, could never be fully realised. Thief and policewoman kissed each other deeply, enjoying every moment while it lasted. Then he pulled back, reluctantly, and looked at her. Xandra was startled by what she saw. In his eyes was pain, bitterness. Is this what he felt, because he couldn't have her? Surely, he couldn't really feel anything for her - she was the one who would rob him of his freedom. And yet... she looked into his eyes deeply, and this time she kissed him. It was a sweet, chaste kiss, and she pulled back.  
  
"You havta go," she whispered.  
  
"I know," he said, just as quietly. He stroked her face softly, whilst his eyes roamed each of her features. "Oh, ma cherie, I wish I didn't. I-"  
  
He was interrupted as Logan pulled back the curtain and looked in with interest at the two of them. He raised his eyebrows at Xandra, but she warned him with her eyes to stay silent. The thief observed Logan for a few seconds, then turned his attention back to Xandra. Standing, he gave her a dazzling smile to cover up the hurt she had just seen, and kissed her hand softly. "You are right, petite. I havta go. But I t'ink we'll meet again."  
  
"Ya can bet on it," she said, meeting his eyes. He nodded, then walked away, without looking back. Logan watched him until he was out of sight, then turned to look at Xandra, eyebrows raised in something approaching amusement.  
  
"That the reason you dumped Cody?"  
  
Xandra scowled at him. "Ah didn't dump Cody. It was over, both of us knew it. An' no, he ain't the reason. Ah hardly know 'im, really."  
  
"Anyone I know?"  
  
Xandra paused before she answered. For some insane reason, she didn' want the thief to be captured. Not right now, in any case. After a few seconds, she judged he'd have had enough time to get away, and to get away without Logan tracking him. He seemed to know of Logan, after all. "That was th' thief."  
  
With amusement, Xandra watched Logan's face as it changed from amusement, to disbelief, to shock. Then grim realisation came, and he ran out of the infirmary.  
  
  
***********  
  
  
~~~Interlude~~~  
Remy stopped his sprint, as he judged himself to be safe. Dropping down into the sewers, where the stink would not allow the infamous Logan to tell his scent from any other, he walked along the little path and lit a cigarette. Oh yes, he knew of Logan, the once Canadian spy/assassin/bodyguard. And he had even seen him, when he had visited Canada, just after he had been exiled from the guild. From what he understood, Logan had been rather unfriendly with the Canadians, and had provided a nice distraction while he made his pinch.  
  
Just as he was making a nice distraction now, from thoughts of Xandra. The image of her immediately filled his mind, the thought of her touch sent shivers down his spine.  
  
"Why!?" He asked the emptiness around him. Why did she have to be a cop? Why had he fallen in love with the dedicated policewoman who was on the case after him? The policewoman who was so dedicated she had even put her own adopted mother in jail. He cursed himself for not doing enough research. After her encounter with Creed, he had read everything he could find on her, and found out with horror that they had once been allies. Therefore, he knew her, and she knew him all too well. He did not wonder that she feared him, and now he knew why she had frozen. He must have said something about her mother, Mystique. This must have conjured up guilt over incarcerating her mother, and made her freeze. If he'd have read this before, he would have known. Would never have let her find Creed. Would have protected her, to have her safe and happy and warm, the way he wanted her to be.  
  
Sighing, he pushed all thoughts of Creed away. Xandra was all right now, that was all that mattered. Joy raged with depression in his heart, but depression won out. She had responded to him, was no doubt attracted to him. But she didn't know him like he knew her. Even if she did, Remy doubted that would stop her from arresting him. If she hadn't hesitated to arrest her mother, she wouldn't hesitate to do the same to him, no matter what.  
  
His jaw set as he looked into the dimness ahead of him. He had a pinch planned. He would go ahead with it. If she caught him, then bravo to her. Que sera sera.  
  
  
  
... to be continued  
  



	10. On the beat part 10

On the Beat  
Part Ten  
  
KazeRogue (kazerogue@hotmail.com) and Cat Smith (jhs0cls@leeds.ac.uk)  
  
  
  
  
The doctor had checked Xandra over and given her the okay. She had stood and was gathering her belongings when Logan stormed in. His face told her he was in a foul mood. She watched with interest as he stopped a few feet from her, his entire body tense.  
  
"What the hell do you think yer playing at, gal?"  
  
Xandra knew her look was innocent as she spoke. "Ah'm not playin' at anythin'. _He_ kissed _me_, Logan."  
  
"An' you responded. I'm not dumb, Xandra. You knew who he was, didn't say anythin' to anyone, then let him get fresh with you. I-"  
  
"I wanted him ta do it," she said in a small voice, then looked up as Logan stared at her. "Come on, lets go get a coffee. Ah'll explain what ah can on th' way."  
  
  
*********  
  
  
The way down to the cafeteria had been interesting. Logan had stayed silent as Xandra explained that while she was attracted to the thief, it made no difference, Logan should know that. She wanted to catch him on her own terms, but she _would_ catch him. Sitting down in the relatively quiet cafeteria, she let Logan get her a cappuccino. He sat down, and looked at her, then spoke.  
  
"He's clever. He went down ter the sewers where he musta known I couldn't follow him."  
  
"He said he'd heard o' ya." Xandra glanced up at Logan. "But anyway. Ah think he's gonna strike again soon, an' this'll be a sort o' High Noon. Ah'll catch him this time, or ah won't." Logan looked at her, raising his eyebrows, but remained silent. "Ah've just gotta figure out where he's gonna strike. Ah thought it'd be the Mask of Ra, but that's gone, now." She pulled a newspaper to  
her and started flicking through it. "Ah gotta figure out where his next hit's gonna be."  
  
"The Mask's still in New York, darlin'."  
  
She looked up, startled. Logan's face was perfectly serious. "Ya... Ya're serious, ain't ya?" Logan nodded, and Xandra rested her head on the backs of her hands. "Do ya think... Do ya think he'll do this, or change his mahnd? He knows ah think he's after the Mask."  
  
"I don't think our boy's the type to give up." Logan paused. "I got somethin', maybe somethin' that could tell us who he is." He watched Xandra look at him, startled, and, knowing he had her full attention, he continued. "One o' my contacts brought me this info. I don't know how true it is, if any o' it. Make yer own mind up. Apparently, one of the LeBeau boys down in the Thieves Guild," he watched Xandra's eyebrows shoot up, knowing full well she believed in the Guild, where most cops thought it was laughable, and continued. "They got kicked out about five years ago. Somethin' to do with him refusin' an arranged marriage. If it's him, he's supposed ter be a handsome charmer, a mutant, an' is supposed ter be real stubborn."  
  
"Ah knew it," she whispered. "Ah knew he was Guild quality. An' he's from New Orleans."  
  
Logan stretched, then looked at her. "Yer think its true?" She nodded, and clasped her hands together. Logan knew that look. She was formulating a plan. "Go get yer uniform on, an' get yer warrants," he told her. "Yer'll need 'em."  
  
  
************  
  
  
A few minutes later, she was climbing into her police uniform. She put her gun into its holster, and then fastened her jacket. Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled. She looked good. She _felt_ good, she knew she could finally crack this case that no-one else could. She had information about the thief himself. She'd got Logan to try and find out first names. She hoped he'd manage it; that might give her the shock-factor she'd need to get an edge. There was a  
little niggling fear inside her, but she quelled it. She knew the thief wouldn't hurt her.  
  
Putting her hands on her hips, she looked herself in the eye. As she did so, she promised herself that she'd do this. No matter what. Walking out of the restroom, she walked purposefully towards Forge's office. On her way, she was accosted by Logan. He gave her his usual rough smile.  
  
"Yer in luck, girl. The boy's name is Remy Etienne LeBeau, and his wife-ter-be's name is Belle. That's all I could get. My contact wouldn't tell me if the thief's description fitted this LeBeau, but his reaction told me it was." He nodded at her. "Good luck with Forge." As he walked off, Xandra mused over this new information she had. So that was his name... Remy LeBeau. It was a nice name. It suited him - sounding charming, French and exotic. With a scowl, she pushed the kindly thought of him from her brain. She needed focus, and not to feel any emotion towards him. She ignored the little voice in her brain that whispered 'Too late'.  
  
Getting to Forge's office, she paused for a moment outside the door. This would be difficult. She was asking for permission to get into a museum late at night, or early in the morning if you looked at it a different way, next to the most priceless item in the building. She was also putting herself in great danger. But he had to let her do this. He just had to.  
  
Knocking on the door, she took a deep breath, then entered at his request to do so. He looked up, and smiled at her. "Detective Thorne! Sit down," he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "I'm glad you're feeling better," he added, before getting down to business. "What can I do for you?"  
  
Xandra explained her plan, not able to look up to see Forge's expression until she'd finished. When she finally dared to look up, Forge had controlled his expression. He seemed to be mulling over what she'd asked. He finally looked up at her.  
  
"You think you can do this?" Was all he said.  
  
Xandra's eyes widened. "Yes, suh! Ah do, ah know ah can get him - if ya just let me have the chance." She watched Forge, then her heart soared as he nodded.  
  
"I'll get the paperwork sorted out. You go get ready. Make sure you have armour and weapons. Don't take any chances, Xandra. You're one of our best." Xandra looked at Forge in surprise, and smiled, a true, thankful smile. That had been a great compliment, and one she wasn't sure if she deserved. She nodded and left quickly. Leaning against the wall next to Forge's door, she let out a big breath of relief. She stood up, and noticed Cody had gotten up and now stood near her, looking at her. His eyes were dark, and his mouth was arranged in a tight, thin line.  
  
"Logan tole me what y'are planning on doin'. Ya cain't do this, Xandy!"  
  
Xandra flinched at the nickname, and was surprised at the anger she felt. She glared at Cody, and let her feelings show in her eyes. "This has nuthin' whatsoevah ta do with ya, Cody. Nuthin' in mah life has anthin' ta do with ya, understand? Don't presume ta tell me what ah can an can't do, 'cause ah'm gonna do whatever the hell ah lahk!" With that, she walked about, her footsteps hard on the tiled floor. She was still astonished at the vehemence she felt towads him. When had that happened? She slowly realized. It was when the thief had rescued her. When he'd saved her life when it would have benefited him to have her dead. When he'd felt his lips on her own. A shudder of pleasure ran down her back. Horrified at herself, she tried to push the image away, but it seemed determined to haunt her. The feel of him holding her, his tongue brushing hers. Was it the danger that made her feel this way, or was it him? She wished desperately that it was just the danger, but she glumly admitted to herself that she was attracted to him, that she felt warm, fuzzy feelings of some sort toward him. It made no difference, she told herself as she arrived at the armoury. She had a job to do; he had broken the law, and he'd have to pay for that. No matter what.  
  
  
************  
  
  
Cops made her uneasy - reminded her of what she could expect if she was caught. They even made her forget that she pretended to be the best in the business, that nobody could catch her. But Xandra was her friend and she owed her.  
She had felt miserable after betraying her like this, after sending her on the trail that Remy had ordered her. She would have never believed that Xandra could get hurt. She had always seemed... invulnerable.  
  
When an obviously shaken Master Thief had appeared at her door in the early morning and told her what had happened, she had been shocked. She had told him to inform Xandra's partner, Logan, so that she would be looked after. Ever since Remy had left her place, she had been trying to keep track of Creed fervently. And with the data she had now, she could maybe make up for what she  
had done.  
  
She finally found the desk of Xandra's partner and laid the pile of papers on it. Then, without anybody noticing the young woman, she disappeared out of the office like a shadow.  
  
  
********  
  
  
The stench tortured his enhanced senses a thousandfold, but Logan was used to it - for areas like this were in the most use of police work. Melting in the rest of the population of the Ghetto, he made his way to the ruin of a warehouse, careful to walk against the wind to keep his own scent undetectable as long as possible. This was the latest hideout of the maniac berserk, Victor Creed, concerning the anonymous information on his table. Normally, he would have checked the source first, but after what had happened to his partner, his rage made him go after her assailant first. He reminded himself to better stay cool and controlled before he entered the old building.  
  
"Logan!" he heard the fake cheerful voice of the man he was searching. "What a ... pleasant surprise."  
  
"Sure it is, bub."  
  
"What do I owe the honor of your visit, old friend." The killer's eyes hid a dangerous glint, while his smile bore a tad too much of his fangs.  
  
"Thorne, Alexandra, police officer. Ring a bell?" Logan stepped closer threateningly and they performed the strange dance of opponents before the first attack, circling each other, always aware of the other's slightest movements.  
  
"Sorry, never heard o' her." Creed's smile became indubitably amused. "But I'll tell her yer said 'hi' when I see the frail."  
  
"Yer won't, yer won't leave this hall, Creed."  
  
"Yer gonna stop me?"  
  
"The power dampening field around this hall will."  
  
When Creed turned his attention from Logan to the walls for an instant, the Lieutenant striked. His claws cut through the other's throat like through butter and the gurgling moan brought a wry smile to his face.  
  
"Don't worry... yer'll heal ... maybe..."  
  
  
  
...to be continued 


	11. On the beat part 11

On the beat  
part 11  
  
by Cat Smith (jhs0cls@leeds.ac.uk) and KazeRogue (KazeRogue@hotmail.com , Fanfiction Mailing List: cardsandgloves-subscribe@yahoogroups.com)  
  
Note: Sorry this is so late, it has been finished a few months ago, but Yahoo messed up and first wouldn't let Cat get the first draft, then Kaze couldn't get Cat's edited version *sighs* And believe us, we tried SEVERAL times *growls*  
  
  
  
Remy LeBeau closed his eyes for a few moments, then visibly pulled himself together. He had business to do, and he wouldn't anything - or anybody - get between him and the Mask of Ra. Not even the woman who had come to intrigue him more than any other person before had done. Why the hell had he kissed her? This was only complicating the matter. He should have pushed any thought of her aside and went on with his job. But now, he couldn't think of anything else but the taste of her lips.  
  
Damnit, he was a pro! He had a perfect plan and he would get through it. What was he expecting from this situation anyway? She would take every chance to arrest him, that much he knew about her character by now. This was no Hollywood movie in which either she would forget about her principles and follow him around the world on the search of new challenges, or he would realize the BADNESS of what he was doing and become a valuable member of society, of course amnestied because of his sincerity about his change of mind.  
  
This was life and he knew he couldn't offer her something that would have any worth in it. Even if she would be able to let him get away with his past crimes, he wasn't one to settle down. White picket fences, a dog and 2.5 children and a wife who arrested his colleagues was not quite what he wished for in his life. At least, that's what he told himself.  
  
  
*******************  
  
  
"Listen, Xandra, I really never wanted anything to happen to you. I was just trying to help a friend, I never would have thought that you'd have any probs with this Creed guy... Really"   
  
Kitty was desperate. The need to apologise had driven her to the police station again, where she had met Xandra and asked her to have dinner with her in a nearby restaurant. Now she nervously looked into the other's stoic features, afraid of having loist a friendship. But even more afraid of what would happen to her if she lost the protection the Detective offered.  
  
"Why help him? What would he possibly have ta do with Creed" The Detective wasn't making this easy for her friend, but she needed information. And she knew that she had a better chance of getting it while the hacker was still afraid and felt guilty.  
  
"I really dunno. He just told me that there was some guy after him, hired from one of his 'victims' I guess. Well, he just thought it to be a good idea to play his two opponents off against each other, to have him get rid of the killer and to buy him some time in keeping you busy. At least that's what he told me."  
  
Kitty's state was approaching hysteria, so Xandra decided that there was nothing more she could expect from this source. Standing up, she threw some bills on the table to pay for her food and grabbed her jacket.  
  
"Where are you going?" The hacker almost whined.  
  
"Ah have work ta do." The policewoman turned to leave.  
  
"Wait! Is everthing okay with us? I... I mean... will you.. you know?"  
  
Xandra turned again to face her friend with a hard look. "Ah won't."  
  
Kitty's relief was almost tangible as her features eased in a second, she smiled at the Detective extremely thankful as the noose had been removed from her neck. For now.  
  
"I .. thank you. But - why are you doing this? I mean, you even arrested your mother, why do you make an ecxeption with me?"  
  
Xandry considered her response very well. This would decide about their friendship. The detective was positive that Kitty would still help her in times of need, if only because Xandra knew too much about her illegal activities. But whether she would do it out of friendship, she couldn't be sure, if she were honest. How could she explain that she had decided for herself long ago to separate personal and business matters? That it was not their friendship that kept the hacker from being arrested? Nonetheless, Kitty deserved the truth.  
  
"Because this way, ya're of more use ta me. Your help in my work does more good than your other activities do bad."  
  
The two young women looked into each other's eyes in silence as their relationship had been clearly defined, neither knowing what it would be in the future though. Abruptly, the Detective turned and left the restaurant without another word.  
  
  
*********************  
  
  
Trying to relax, Xandra closed her eyes and lifted her head to the soft breeze. The coffee she held was warming her hands and she took another sip to let the warmth run through her body in this cold night. She had tried to nap some hours since she planned to stay up all night, lying in wait to catch her thief. But after half an hour of tossing and turning, she had given up and went for coffee instead. Now she was sitting on the roof of Logan's apartment house and waited for the hours to pass by until she would go to the museum.   
  
"De moon be bright dis night" The voice startled her, though nothing betrayed that reaction. She kept her eyes closed until she felt it was safe to open them and face the owner of the voice. He looked gorgeous, his black coat fluttering in the wind, his hair tousled, melting with the background like the being of the night that he probably was. Though she said nothing, the question was as clear written on her face as if she had spoken it out aloud. He lit a cigarette.  
  
"I jus' felt I had t'see you once again b'fore... y'know." He sat down next to her and exhaled smoke deeply. Xandra watched the smoke curl and blur the view of an otherwise clear night as if it were the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. Whereas Gambit watched her, features painted in moonlight, her hair's white streak amazingly bright while her eyes' sparkle matched the one of this night's brightest stars. The situation still seemed unreal to him, even when she spoke.  
  
"This is doing neither of us any good." Her voice was strangely flat and as green eyes met red ones he could see the turmoil of emotions she had managed to keep out of it. His heart seemed to skip a beat as he barely suppressed the sudden urge to stroke a single strand of white hair out of her face.  
  
"I know. I should go."  
  
"Y'should." Was her only answer. Neither of them moved. They sat in silence, coffee as forgotten as cigarette, staring at the stars and the hectic atmosphere below. With a sigh, the thief threw the butt of his cigarette away and stood. Startled, the Detective stood as well, dropping the cup that she had put on her knees before. With an inhuman swiftness and elegancy, Remy caught it and handed it back to her. Due to the trembling of his hands, he spilled the hot liquid and burned them. Reflexively, Xandra took them in their own to check the bruise.  
  
"Let me see... we should get soemthing to cool it." Both realized the same instant that they touched and pulled their hands back as if they had felt something far hotter than the coffee.  
  
"It be okay..." Remy whispered without looking her in the eyes. Suddenly, he cursed himself for coming here. He felt like a brabbling idiot. He, the charmer, the nonchalant womanizer, was nervous as a highschool boy before his first date. He turned to leave, trying hard to not make it obvious as the flight that it was. Xandra held him back by his arm and he couldn't help but stare into her beautiful eyes that pleaded him to stay.  
  
"I really... I should..." He couldn't find the words to explain what he was having a hard time explaining himself. That this couldn't be.  
  
"Ah know." She simply looked at him and with a fervent passion all dams broke down when their lips met.  
  
  
*******************  
  
  
As Xandra woke, she felt comfortingly dizzy. She kept her eyes still closed, reluctant to open them to see the reality she wasn't fit for after the last night. Inhaling his scent that still lingered in the blankets, she tried to remember every detail of what had happened, but even failed when it came to the question how they had come into Logan's flat, down from the roof. But she could still feel every single touch of his, as if he had burned her skin where he had caressed it. She could also recall his words, whispered between two kisses. 'We're only makin' dis harder'. And her response: 'Ah know'. Nonetheless, neither of them had been able to stop what would prove to be the bittersweetest experience in Xandra's life.  
  
She finally opened her eyes, afraid of seeing him lying next to her. Afraid of not seeing him lying next to her. But as she could have assumed if she were her regular self, he was gone, whether she should be happy or sad, she didn't know. Her eyes happened to stray from the pillow with the distinctive dent of a head having rested there, still smelling of Fahrenheit, to the clock on her nightstand. Xandra almost burst out laughing - or crying - at the irony of having overslept for the first time of her career in the NYPD.  
  
  
*********************  
  
  
"Could you KINDLY tell me why I've been kissing my boss' ass to get you the permission to stay in this godamn museum over night when you prefer to stay at home and oversleep?" Xandra has never seen Forge so mad, and she'd die a happy death if she never had to again.   
  
"Ah... Ah felt he wouldn't come." the Detective cursed herself for stammering.  
  
"And you did know this how? And don't give me any of this 'female intuition' crap!"  
  
Xandra thought fervently about Gambit's possible reason to not steal the Mask last night besides making love to the Detective who was supposed to arrest him.  
  
"There was full moon last night, and th' sky was extremely clear. It was too bright for him ta get into th' museum unnoticed. Ah.. Ah've done a psychoanalysis, he's a perfectionist, he wouldn't take any chances. And since Ah reckoned he would use this night ta watch th' building nonetheless, perfecting his plan. Ah couldn't risk him to see me there and get suspicious." Xandra held her breath and prayed for her boss to accept her explanation. Strange as it was, he did.  
  
"And what do you intend to do now, Detective?"  
  
Xandra looked into the Lieutenant's eyes and held their gaze, laying as much determination in her voice as she could master.  
  
"Ah will catch him. Tonight."  
  
  
  
... to be concluded!!!!!! ^^ 


	12. On the beat part 12

On the beat  
part 12 - Finale  
  
by Cat Smith (sugah_cat_stars@yahoo.co.uk) and Kaze (KazeRogue@hotmail.com)  
  
Disclaimer: Marvel's...yadda yadda yadda   
Note: Sorry!!! We know it's evil that you had to wait for this last part so long, but it's not our fault! It was almost finished when Kaze's hdd had a headcrash and the file was gone for good (since me lazy slouch never saves extra copies anywhere *sniff*). But well, better late than never ^^;  
  
  
  
For the second time in a fortnight, Detective Alexandra Thorne of the NYPD paid the women jail a visit. Her foster mother, the imprisoned mutant terrorist known as Mystique did not comment at the short amount of time that had passed since her daughter's last visit. Nor did she stop her babbling about nonsense that was barely covering her nervousness. Though usually straight talking herself, Raven had learned that you discover most about your opposite's state of mind, if you don't interrupt him. And learn a lot; she did.  
  
"Honey, why don't you spit out the question you came here to ask?" she finally asked, interrupting Xandra midsentence.  
  
The young Detective immediately and unusually blushed and looked at her hands. Chewing her upper lip, a distinct sign that the matter at hand wasn't pleasant, she tried to find means to broach the subject.  
  
"D'ya hate me for turnin ya in?" she finally whispered still without looking the elder woman in the eye.  
  
After having overcome her surprise, Raven burst into laughter. Xandra looked at her in dismay - and a little hurt at this unexpected reaction. Seeing her expression, the shapeshifter wiped tears out of her eyes and became serious again.  
  
"I'm sorry, dear one, I didn't mean to offend you.. it's just that this couldn't be farther from how I feel. See, all I ever knew how to do, was to fight - fight the endless fight against the mutant suppression. But the world changed, I'm not needed out there anymore, because the fight is won, we're all equal. So, there's no place for me anymore. But in here on the other hand... I can scheme plans endlessly that aren't needed anymore and I'm not forced to face a life that I don't know what to do with otherwise. I have a lot time to think in here, you know? Much needed time. I made peace with myself... what's wrong, honey? Xandra?"  
  
Xandra had clutched her hand over her mouth and sobbed violently. Mystique stroke her hair helplessly, never having been one for sensivity, sensibility or tact.   
  
"Ah'm so sorry" she finally mumbled, her voice cracked. "Ah didn' mean ta betray ya. But Ah had to, Ah had no other choice... like now... Gawd momma, what should Ah do? Ah slept with him... Ah slept with th' thief..."  
  
"Now we finally come to the reason of your visit." Mystique sighed. "Now calm down and shoot... did you use protection?"  
  
"Mom!" Xandra pulled out of her mother's embrace and frowned at her.  
  
"Good, you've discovered your senses again. So, what's the deal? Do you love him?" The word was said with distaste. It was obvious that the former terrorist wasn't too thrilled by the idea. Even the little warmth she had spared for her daughter was gone when it came to men.  
  
"Ah dunno." Xandra answered after taking a deep breath and visibly pulling herself together. "Ah sure hope no. But even if, it doesn't make a difference. He's a criminal, Ah'm a police officer, the turnout is clear, end of discussion... it's just... Ah don't know if Ah could stand him hating me..."  
  
"This is a decision you have to make yourself. Darling, I know you better than anyone else in this world. I know that you need rules and order in your life. I tried to put mine into your head, but that wasn't right for you. So you found yourself some new ones with the NYPD. I know that you're afraid of losing control, that's why you follow those rules as strictly as you are. And that's why you turned me in even though I felt at your every visit that you hate yourself for it. But it's okay. I know that you had to it. It's who you are, my Rogue."  
  
A smile played over Xandra's lips at her old  
nickname, then determination flashed steely in her eyes. "Yoah right." Xandra closed her eyes. "It's who Ah am."  
  
  
  
*****************************************  
  
  
Finally, the sun set, night fell, and Remy LeBeau's day started. With the precision of years of training, he prepared for his task, carefully picking and checking each and every tool he was to use this night. He couldn't take the liberty of making a mistake and he wouldn't. He never did. This ritual of accurate preparation somehow allowed him to forget that he had made a crucial mistake already. He had broken the one rule that was most important for somebody of his profession: never fall in love.  
  
It was kind of ironic that by chance he broke that rule with the worthy opponent that he had always thrived for. If perfection came to you as naturally as it came to LeBeau, you'd miss the thrill of fear of being caught, the adrenaline rushing through your veins as well. The challenge of defeating someone as perfectionist as himself was more than welcome to keep his edge.  
  
What counted for Remy, was not only the excitement of the actual pinch but also the miniscule preparation that also included assessing your opponent and discovering their every weakness. He would have never guessed that he would one day find his counterpart and that they would prove to be each other's only weakness.  
  
Now, he had to make a decision. He knew that she wouldn't let him get away with what he was about to do (and she would also know very well that he wouldn't alter his plans of stealing the mask because of her), but what would he do if she tried to stop him? In case he could escape anyways, would he be able to leave the scene and her? Not seeing her ever again? Go on with his shiny life that suddenly seemed so shallow to him now?   
  
He knew that there was no chance for them to work together, that was a part of her character he admired and cursed most at the same time. But well, he thought with a grim smile, maybe he wouldn't be able to escape anyways when she was up against him. And then? This was the one thing he would never do, not even for her: going to jail. He'd rather.... Gripping his tool belt tighter he chased the thought away. There was no use in these speculations. He would do what he had to do, due to his stupid pride and foolish heart. And she would do her duty. It was almost fated - it had always been supposed to be this way.  
  
A blank expression on his handsome face, he left the cheap motel room.  
  
  
*******************************************  
  
  
Detective Thorne wandered through the empty dark corridors of the Museum of Arts. It was a strange, somewhat surrealistic feeling to be there alone at night. The paintings seemed to show different images in the sick light of the emergency exit signs and one could only guess the abstract forms of the sculptures in shadowy corners. Xandra fought the creepy feeling that she suddenly was all alone in a world that wasn't her own anymore.   
  
Shivering, she concentrated on listening to the loud clacking of her heels on the shiny, marble floor while making her way to the emergency stairs that would lead her to the roof of the museum and thus the place where LeBeau would most likely enter the scene. She had studied his behavior in past crimes and decided this.   
  
As soon as she had closed the door behind her, Remy LeBeau slipped out of the shadows. His jaw clenched, he looked at the closed door that separated them for another moment before he got to work. Knowing that she had studied him, he had changed his habits this time and went in hours before he would do so normally and he had spent even more effort to not leave any traces of his entry.   
  
The actual act of stealing the mask was a piece of cake. Though secured in the highest standards of top-tech security, with heat detectors, motion and acoustic sensors and a weight sensitive showcase, that was nothing that he hadn't met and overcome before. With cat-like grace, he evaded the sensors, not making the slightest sound. Out of his backpack he took an exact imitation of the mask, that would not only fool the weight sensors but also the cameras, staff and public, at least for a while.  
  
Grinning, he opened the showcase with the museum's director's key that he had copied weeks ago and took the mask. As soon as he held the mask in his hands the thrill that as usually had banished every other thought was gone. The frown crept up his forehead again and for a moment he wondered if this was worth it. He was almost angry at this piece of gold and jewels for putting him in this situation.   
  
But the moment passed and he remembered that even if it weren't for that mask, he'd still be a thief and Xandra would still be a detective. Nothing that would ever work out, not even if he fooled himself into believing in miracles. With a self-ironic smirk that expressed more pain than humor, he carefully put the mask away and turned to the emergency exit to leave.  
  
He had already stepped down a few stairs on his way to the cellar when he stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't do it. He couldn't just sneak away from this without seeing her again just one more time. It had to end; he had to put an end to all of it. Or neither of them would ever be free again. Knowing that he was probably making the biggest mistake of his life but not allowing himself to consider any consequences, he made his way to the roof.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
Xandra hugged herself and rubbed her upper arms. It was really incredibly cold tonight and the rain wasn't making it any better. But of course no weather condition would keep her from doing her job in this case, waiting on the roof for LeBeau, hidden in the shadows. And she knew that this weather was just perfect for his thievery, a clouded moon, bad sight due to the rain and a slippery ground that wouldn't hamper his unnatural agility.   
  
"Not quite de room wit' a view that I'd prefer, but ya gotta take what ya get."  
  
Xandra started at the low, soft voice in her back and turned to see the thief standing right behind her. At his sight, all the memories of what had happened between the two of them came rushing back to her mind and for a moment she could only gape at him like an idiot before her mouth snapped shut and her expression became unreadable.   
  
"Maybe that's the rule in the underworld, but in mah precinct, ya get what ya paid for, and that's it." She almost managed to make her voice sound as cold as her face, just a little tremble betrayed her inner turmoil. A bitter smile crept up his face.  
  
"So we leave th' small talk and come to business right away?"  
  
Instead of an answer, the Detective just drew her gun. Remy stared at the muzzle of the pistol, not anxiously, but as if a decision had been made. And he didn't like the outcome. His mysterious eyes went up till he met her stare.  
  
"I won't go t' prison... not even for you." A flicker of her eye was the only reaction he got to his words, but when she spoke it sounded as if a large lump had formed in her throat.  
  
"Y'know that Ah can't just let ya go." Her voice was barely audible when she whispered, "Don't force me to do this...."  
  
As he covered the short distance between them, he could see her hands trembling more with every approaching step. When he was close enough, he brushed a stray hair out of her face. She couldn't help but close her eyes to fully concentrate on the sensation.  
  
It was only when she heard a husky "au revoir" that she opened her eyes, just to see him jump off the museum's rooftop.   
  
  
***********************************************************  
  
  
It was a rapid chase over the roofs of New York and Dt. Thorne didn't like the direction it was taking. Straight to the East river, where she'd just had another encounter with another criminal. She knew that LeBeau wouldn't try to kill her (did she? How much did she know of him anyways?) but the memory alone made her guts clench.   
  
But there was one good thing about the docks. Soon, there would be no way left for the thief and she would have cornered him. For a brief moment, Xandra wondered why he had taken that direction, did he have such a faith in his speed and skill that he thought he'd escape her? She had no time to finish the thought because it had happened. LeBeau was in a fix. They had arrived at the flat roof of a warehouse and the young thief stood at its edge, only the dirty water of the river in front of him, behind him, a determined policewoman.  
  
"Freeze!" Thorne yelled, panting. Slowly, her one-night lover turned and again, time seemed to stop. When their eyes locked, Remy learned what he had already feared. She wouldn't let him go, even if she had the same feelings for him as he had for her, she would still arrest him. And she would use her gun if needed. Not to kill him, but to knock him out. But that was something he could never accept.  
  
A split second after she had realized what he would do, LeBeau had jumped into the angry depth of the East River.  
  
Screaming, Xandra ran towards the edge of the roof to look for him, but the heavy rainfall had turned the river into a death trap. A gust of wind and rain rushed in her face and blinded her. She hurried down the fire ladder and ran along the quay, looking for the thief, screaming his name, although a tiny part of herself that she refused to listen to told her that it was useless, that he was gone.  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
Hours later, soaked and numb, Xandra entered Logan's apartment. Not caring about changing her wet clothes, she went to bed and stared at the ceiling. All the emotions that she had held back till now, rushed out now and she was swept away by guilt and despair. What had she done? Just because she had been so intent on turning him in at any cost, he was dead now. Was that why he had escaped towards the docks? Because he had known that she wouldn't let him escape? Because he didn't want to run from her anymore? Suddenly, she understood what her mother had meant that morning, when she had told Xandra that she had forgiven her because it was what she did, who she was.  
  
All her life, Xandra had done nothing but follow orders, first, her mother's, then, law and order as a policewoman. Never had she questioned these orders, never had she seen any gray areas. "It's who you are," her mother had said. Xandra could almost hear her voice in her head - "but not who you should be". She should have made her own decisions, maybe even her own rules. She should have asked Remy to stop stealing instead of trying to arrest him. She shouldn't have killed the man she loved. Finally, the tears started to fall.  
  
  
************************************************************  
  
  
Katherine Pryde looked at her handiwork and was pleased with herself. Exhausted, but pleased. It had been a week since LeBeau had drowned and she hadn't heard from Xandra yet, despite the hundred messages she had left her. The hacker felt responsible for parts of the mess that had started out to be a favor for a friend. There wasn't much she could do about it now, but Kitty was somebody who always tried to make up for possible faults. Even if it meant to spend a week in front of her laptop with just short breaks to grab some food, call Xandra or pour some coffee.  
  
This had been the hardest thing she had ever done, infiltrating so many systems with such high security measures, but she had done the job, untraceable, as usual. Nobody would find a flaw in the data she had fed the police computer systems of New York and LA with. Kitty grinned. It wasn't much, but a clean slate was all she could do to make up to her friend.  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Detective Thorne opened the door of the NYPD. Her one-week grace was over; Forge would want answers today. He had called her the day after it had happened (not even in her thoughts Xandra was able to call it the day Remy LeBeau died) when she didn't appear to duty. She had told him what had happened and that they would most likely find their thief washed ashore somewhere. Then she had asked for some days off, which Forge had instantly granted. Her boss understood the effects on a cop's psyche when he felt responsible for death all too well.   
  
Xandra hadn't called the department during this week, not wanting to know if they had found Remy's corpse. She just wanted to forget, knowing that she never could. Today, she would resign from her job and go somewhere far, far away from New York doing anything but this.  
  
Inside, colleagues greeted her, all expressing their pity in their rough, wordless cop-way. When she arrived at her floor, she spotted Logan and walked up to him. She was shocked herself at the hoarse sound of her voice.  
  
"Hey, Logan. Ah wanted to talk to you first before Ah go and see Forge. Since you are my partner Ah thought you should be the first..."  
  
"I'm not." came the gruff response. "After I nailed Creed they said it's time fer promotion. I'm Lieutenant now, just came to say good-bye to you."   
  
Xandra's eyes grew wide. "But..."  
  
"Ah, Detective Thorne, there you are, I want you to meet your new partner, he was just transferred to us from the LAPD...."  
  
Xandra didn't hear the rest of Forge's speech. In fact, she noticed nothing anymore after she had turned to face her soon to be ex new partner, just to find herself staring at a familiar handsome face with a lopsided grin and eyes that she knew, even though they were hidden behind shades, had a very unique color.  
  
For the first time ever, the members of the NYPD could see the tough Detective Thorne show any kind of weakness, in this case, by fainting. Luckily, her new partner was quick enough to catch her before she could fall on the floor. When he bent over her, he heard her whisper something that sounded like "how?".  
  
"Dat's easy, chère." his voice was soft like velvet, even in a whisper. "An honorable thief thought she owed me for tellin' you about me and saved me. She's sorry about the rain she had to splash into your face, but she has no use for witnesses, you see? Oh, an she says 'thank you' for her probation."  
  
  
  
  
~ the end  
  
  
  
Whohooooo! Finally!!!! ^^ Hey, guys, this might be the end of 'On the beat' but it's not the last thing you'll see of Xandra Thorne and her new partner in crime ^_- 


End file.
